


A Bottle of Citrine

by ScripturePerfect99



Series: The Beginning of The End [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Politics, Alternate Universe - Space, F/F, Family, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, Love, M/M, Mages, Magic, Original Character(s), Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 10:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18809365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScripturePerfect99/pseuds/ScripturePerfect99
Summary: Magic, alchemy and political downfall all weigh on the shoulders of a young Arau mage by the name of Anessimbery. Her journey begins with her fathers in a desolate land far different from our own. They celebrate Creation Day and the transferring of natural magics from the center of their planet into the center of their people. But when Anessimbery's Creation Day faces an unknown force of unforeseen power, her world begins to collapse as well as the society she's known for her entire life. In the very first of the series, Anessimbery is challenged by family, loss and her own pride. Next to her, we have Syrreth, a high-status Tana who's own tribe is facing political annihilation at the hands of her own father, the chief of the Tana tribe. Both of these young girls decide to take matters into their own hands when the dark magic, Pselus, threatens their and the very tribes they thrive in.





	1. 1

“The night sky is merely a blanket the universe has placed above us. It keeps us safe and the gods? Oh, the gods, they are full of mischief and wonder, yes? They carved little holes through our blanket so that we can see the beauty that resides just beyond…”

 

On another plane, beyond where our eyes can see  
Beyond where our technology can reach  
A moon is the body of life.  
Before Earth was born and gave in to us all  
And other dimensions stood proud and tall.  
What our eyes can see  
What our ears can hear  
On its surface, it is unclear  
As to why  
A simple mortal such as yourself  
Would place your existence on a high moral shelf.  
They rely on nothing more than the simple devotion of one another, a society unbroken by the bounds of selfish integrity. We have failed them, they are our angels. The magic we see and pray for, in the novels and films we so adore, they have made a reality. Before our moon shone bright, before our arrogance walked the Earth, there is a home more precious than that of which we know. We can follow the light but never truly see it, play with the ancient pieces of time and space, yet we end up nowhere. We can walk to the edge of this universe and never find them. But they have found us.  
This is the beginning of the end.

 

“LoTe! What’s taking so damn long?”  
“She’s playing with the vermin again.”  
Anhe sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just like her mother…”  
“Playing with vermin?”  
“No, no! Be kind, LoTe, Hart will not like that.”  
“No one cares what I say about it.”  
“I do.”  
LoTe scoffed. “I am very sorry, my love, how will you ever forgive me?”  
“Enough. You know this god is just waiting for you to take an axe to the neck.”  
LoTe placed his hand around his throat, grimacing at the thought. “So violent today, love…something on your mind?”  
“You…” Anhe stepped closer, taking LoTe’s hand, sending red heat up to the tip of the Tet’s ears. “Getting my daughter into the house."  
LoTe groaned. “Ane! Come get your father, he’s toying with me again!”  
The curly haired little one ran up to LoTe, her hair dusty from running about the rear of their cozy little home. She had a small rodent in her hands, one with sharp teeth that pointed outward like a horn. It waved it around, sniffing and stabbing the air frantically.  
“What is it, Papa?” She asked with curious eyes.  
LoTe was about to answer before he stopped himself. He looked to Anhe, who simply snickered and kneeled in front of his child. LoTe felt himself blush again, only this time with genuine embarrassment and not just Anhe’s teasing…  
“I will tell you what it is when you get cleaned up.”  
“Are you teasing LoTe again, Papa? You know he doesn’t like it.”  
This time, Anhe flushed with red hot embarrassment. He heard LoTe howl with laughter, slapping his knees as Anessimbery stared at him with disapproving eyes topped off with the thick eyebrows he had given to her. LoTe pointed this out constantly, but she truly did have Anhe’s face; the adorably wide button nose, the dust-dark eyes, the angry eyebrows and the pouty little lips. He felt a sense of pride rush over him for a moment until the little vermin in her hands poked at him.  
“Okay, friend.” He picked the creature up by the tooth.

“Be gentle!!!!” Anessimbery shrieked. “You wouldn’t like me if I picked you up by your tooth!”  
“Calm, Ane, calm.” LoTe approached her, scooping her up without a problem. He examined her dust-covered face and blew on it. She flailed and shrieked with delight.  
“No!!!”  
“Yes, Ane, you’re a messy little Arau, aren’t you?”  
“Yeah and I like it!”  
“What did Anhe do without me?”  
“Not work.”  
“Ha! Not work? Oh, so I’m your Mama now?”  
“No, you’re LoTe! Papa’s friend!”  
LoTe snickered. “Of course, Papa’s friend…”  
The both of them jumped when they heard a sudden yelp from behind. LoTe turned and saw Anhe speed past him, picking up dust as he ran from the little creature, who suddenly had leathery wings.  
“LoTe! Get it!”  
“Me get it? Why don’t you get it? You’re the magic user.”  
“Magic takes time, knives don’t!”  
LoTe placed Anessimbery down in the dust, Anhe quickly snatching her up and running inside. LoTe rolled his eyes as Anhe watched from the window, the little one on his hip. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small, slim rock. He tapped it on the palm of his hand and a golden blade popped out. He tilted it, allowing the light to catch the shiny edge and create a small beam of light. He pointed it towards the flying menace, causing it to shriek and fall to the ground, retracting its wings and burrowing into the dust once again.  
“Goodbye, little friend. You won’t be missed.” LoTe flipped his knife, placing it back into his holder and pocket then began to saunter towards the house.  
“Oh, bless us…” Anhe breathed a sigh of relief.  
“Hart didn’t do anything, it was LoTe.” Anessimbery interjected, playing with her shiny stone collection.  
“Why must you dig for things, little one?”  
“If we don’t dig, how will we find new things? I don’t want to see the same old things, I want to find fun new things.”  
“Fun to you means work to me.”  
“Work to you is fun to me! Unless it’s cleaning the Arcanio tablet, that isn’t fun.”  
“Have you bothered to read it, darling?” LoTe sat in one of the wooden chairs, spinning his contained knife in a circle, pressing down on the hilt with one finger.  
“I…um…” Anessimbery folded her hands. “No…”  
Anhe crossed his arms. “It wouldn’t be so boring if you had bothered to read what I told you to read, isn’t that right?”  
“But if I think the Arcanio tablet is already boring…why would I read a book about it?’  
“Ane,” Anhe sighed, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll only get more work if you continue to ignore it.”  
Anessimbery nodded. “I know…”  
“Then why don’t you do it? Don’t say it’s boring.”  
She stared at him with big eyes, swaying back and forth. She felt his eyes patiently awaiting her answer and she felt so clever knowing that he wouldn’t get one. The Arcanio is boring and that’s just about that on that. It wasn’t quick and exciting like random creatures in the dust or shiny rocks or LoTe’s training hours where he stays outside for a long time and doesn’t stop until Papa tells him to.  
“Ane.”  
“Hm?”  
“Wouldn’t you want to do this someday?” Anhe stood, raising his hand, palm up, towards the ceiling. A symbol appeared above them: An eye with two diagonal lines through the pupil and a crystal in the center, the eyelashes pointing towards it in an aggressively straight line.  
The symbol burst into sparkling debris when Anhe closed his hand into a fist, lowering it to make the debris slowly fall around them. When it reached just below Anessimbery’s knees, he stopped it from hitting the ground, opening his palm to face down to force the closest bits to attach themselves to one another by a thin, shimmering string. The string grew longer and thicker when Anhe extended his fingers, jingling as they were pulled closer together to form around Anessimbery’s legs, leaving the only open space where she was standing. She smiled and giggled as the magic stretched once again to fully attach and soften from a glassy texture into a soft fabric. Anhe closed his hand once more, shrinking the newly created fabric a bit and summoning it into his hand.  
“See? Now you have a new skirt, Ane!” Anhe held it up in triumph.  
“Was that all Arcanio?!”  
“Yes! I told you it wasn’t boring!”  
She held her new gift in her hands, rubbing the skirt all along her face to get a better sense of what it felt like. “The reading is still boring, but I want to learn to do that!”  
LoTe laughed. “She still thinks you’re boring.”  
“Papa isn’t boring, just his work.”  
“Ugh, well…well…LoTe.”  
“Yes?”  
“Was scout training easy?”  
“No.”  
“Was it fun?”  
“Yes.”  
Anhe shook his head, nodding his head towards Anessimbery to cue LoTe to lie. LoTe snickered and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t plan on lying to the kid, especially if she didn’t want to learn Arcanio. If she wanted to learn something fun and easy, it would be scouting. The key to appealing to this kid wasn’t lying or bribing her, she was too quick for that.  
“It was fun?” Anessimbery stepped closer to him.  
“Yes, it was fun. It was hard, but it was fun to train with my friends.”  
“How much fun?”  
“More fun than shiny rocks.”  
“That’s a lie.”  
“It’s not, I’m telling you!”  
“Were you all Tet?”  
“No. I met Tatur, Tana and Arau, even. I thought they only liked magic, like your old man over here.  
“I am not old.”  
“You’re older than me!” Anessimbery teased.  
“That’s right!” LoTe chuckled. “But, yes, I met a lot of different Iseilings from different tribes. They told me stories about their homes. Stories I didn’t even think were possible. I had me this one Tatur, he told me he hated farming.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, I know. And Tatur are supposed to farm, right?”  
Anessimbery stared at him, squinting then opening her eyes, trying to figure out if his question was a trick or not. She was taught that the Tet are a tricky people, a tricky tribe. They thrive on mischief and misconduct, that’s why they were outcasted by the Arau.  
“Ane,” He picked her up and placed her on his lap. “That Tatur didn’t like to farm, but we all think they are supposed to, yeah? That was what they did in the very first Creation Day, that is what they do now, yeah?”  
“Yeah…”  
“And that Arau? Didn’t know a thing about magic, like you. But that doesn’t make them any less of an Arau, does it? They still had plain skin, no markings, short ears.” He gently pulled on her earlobe, making her giggle.  
“What are you saying, LoTe?”  
“I’m saying you can do as you please. If you want to do magic, you can. If you don’t, you’re still an Arau and I still love you.”  
“Would you love me if I was a Tet?”  
“I’d love you if you were that little knife-toothed critter you found today!” He kissed her cheek, tickling her little tummy until she shrieked and kicked.  
Anhe smiled and nodded, stepping out of the room for a moment. He gazed out the window at the dusted land in front of him, wondering if Anessimbery knew what she meant to the world beyond these walls. On Creation Day, everyone would sing his praises for creating such a wonderful little being, one who already knew so much and could learn even more. She was one of the few children born these recent years, her being the first Arau in decades, causing a sudden shift in where the tribe was headed. She was also able to harbor immense amounts of magic, enough to provide for the entire planet, he was told by an ancient Arcanio mage.  
“There are few like you, Anessimbery…” He muttered to himself. But he knew she didn’t like all the attention, she loved attention of course, but not this kind of attention. Anhe couldn’t  
blame her, they were merely looking at her like a number, a figure they could rely on when all is unwell.  
He coughed into his shoulder wrapping suddenly, feeling his entire body vibrate from the force. He didn’t have enough energy to harbor magic, no, barely any at all. Anhe was meant to be a driver of society, not a mage. But he tried anyway, he didn’t care of the consequences. Not after Anessimbery’s mother had died. He knew he had to train this little girl to harness magic if she was so capable. She had to be able to twist the elements surrounding her at will, with no mess to clean up, the only one able to stop her would be another magic user. These days, they become rarer and rarer, leaving people like Anhe to pick up the work, killing themselves slowly as the Arcanio burns them from the inside out.  
“Papa! Look!” He heard Anessimbery call from the other room. He cleared his throat, catching his reflection in the mirror. His skin was a bit paler from his normal shade of brown, that he couldn’t deny, but he still contained that precious glow from the sun. His eyes were tired and heavy, but they were still full of curiosity. He was still full of curiosity. He smiled at himself before Anessimbery called for him again.  
“What is it, sweet-“ He gasped, watching his daughter twirl LoTe’s knife around with ease. “What are you-?!”  
“I’m good at this! And it isn’t boring!”  
“Ane, no! Put that down right now! Where’s LoTe?!!”  
Anessimbery stopped twirling the knife then pointed the blade towards the ceiling. Anhe lifted his head slowly, praying to Hart that LoTe wasn’t stuck to the boards above them. Then again, if LoTe was stuck up there, that would mean Anessimbery had been practicing her magic, at least some of it. But even something as basic as a life manual maneuvering spell takes a bit of a reading, two to three pages at least. If she had been reading then she had been trying to hide it, not that Anhe cared or anything…  
“ANHE!” LoTe screamed through his teeth. Anhe stared at the new ceiling decoration, the poor Tet stuck to the wood, the closest thing to the ground being his hair. LoTe’s face screamed with rage, his adorable nose and ears hot with embarrassment, his eyes wide with shock.  
Anhe laughed. “What happened, LoTe? Did the little one steal your knife then stick you up there when you tried to get it back?”  
“Get. Me. Down.”  
“Alright, alright.” Anhe stepped back, loosening his hands to free LoTe from his odd prison. He heard tiny feet pitter patter away from him.  
“Oh no you don’t.” He snapped his fingers, Anessimbery appearing in front of him with a flash of light.  
“You know I don’t like that! It makes me throw up!”  
Anhe snickered and waved his hand in front of her eyes, convincing her he was casting another spell. When her precious little eyes were fixated on his fingertips, he snatched the knife from her hands, then lowering his own hand to release LoTe.  
LoTe fell with a thud. “Warn me next time, please! If either of you, silly mages want to ruin my day, please send a letter within 300 hours!”  
Anessimbery giggled, running up to LoTe and hugging his legs. “Papa isn’t allowed to tease you, but you never said a thing about me!”  
LoTe rolled his eyes and patted her head. “Yeah, yeah…speaking of your father,” LoTe turned to face Anhe. “What’s for dinner?”  
“A healthy heaping of scrolls and pens, my friend.”  
“You can’t work on an empty stomach!”  
“And you expect me to cook for you? The Arcanio must’ve gone to your brain.”  
“Perhaps. Or…” LoTe stepped towards Anhe, dramatically draping his arms over his shoulders. “It is the early onset starvation! How will my mind properly function without a delicious meal made by the illustrious Anhe L’amane? How ever will I thrive? I suppose I’ll perish right here!” He fell to the ground. “Tell Ane I love her!”  
“NO!” Anessimbery draped herself over LoTe. “Papa, you have to cook so LoTE doesn’t die!”  
Anhe groaned, scooping her up then placing her in one of the dinner chairs. “Fine. But if I hear one complaint out of his mouth…”  
LoTe hopped up, his hair bouncing as he landed on his feet. “You’ll make it magically better, correct?”  
“No-“  
“Yeah, he’ll make it magically better!” Anessimbery kicked out her feet.  
“No, Ane-“  
“Mages can make anything taste good! With magic!”  
“If he can make a pretty skirt, he can make his bad food yummy, right!”  
Anhe shook his head, removing his wrap from his neck and placing it over the chair before sliding into the kitchen. He listened to their banter as he chopped proper nutrients into thick chunks, the clunk of the blade against the countertop becoming a rhythmic beat that could compete against the drums on Creation Day. He smiled at the thought of sauntering to the Eye of Isei with his darling little one by his side. He was chosen to assist in the ceremony, the Council allowing LoTe and Anessimbery to watch the rare event unfold before their eyes. Anhe wouldn’t dare imagine Anessimbery’s face, it would ruin the surprise for him, so he’s been hiding the thought in the back of his mind. LoTe was to paint her face in the late morning, markings of both the Arau and the Tet on either of her cheeks. She would be one of the few children there, causing the older ones to flock to her. If this many were to gaze at his daughter like some sort of astrological wonder, he might as well attempt to mend ties between the Arau and Tet tribes with her precious eyes and incessant curiosity.  
The tribes had been stagnant for too long. The Tet were no longer the twisted results of the Tana tribe becoming a too curious of the Arau. They had become the most influential people of Isei, their eyes focused on the stars beyond the Haze instead of deep in the dust where the Arau had hidden themselves and their history. The Tet are a melding of ancient scribes, fulfilled dreams and bright futures for their descendants. The Arau may disagree with the way they spit in the face of the gods and their very creation, but they couldn’t thrive without the Tet’s minds. It was time for both to put aside their differences and work together in these vacant years, magic and children becoming more and more rare, leaving the future of Isei to hang in the balance.  
After dinner, LoTe put Anessimbery to bed. Anhe went into their room and simply gazed out the glass. He swore he could still hear her voice. Any moment he had to himself, when his mind was empty of worries about the fate of his home, he heard her sing. She had a lovely voice, seemingly the only lovely part of her. Why she left the way she did, he will never know. In his dreams, he swears he can still see her frosty blue eyes burning into his, even as he lay next to his new love, in his new home. She denied every part of him. She denied every part of Anessimbery. She didn’t hate the child, not a sliver of hatred could enter that woman’s heart. Yet, she was swallowed by another force: fear. She couldn’t free herself of her fear, so she drove it into others. She tried to infect Anessimbery with it.  
“Stop that.”  
Anhe turned to face LoTe, whose lips gently pressed against his forehead. He held his hands and squeezed. LoTe cocked his head to the side, moving Anhe’s braids behind his ears and running his thumb down his jawline. Anhe took his hand, kissed his fingers then released their hands, turning back to the window. He could still hear her.  
“Anhe…”  
“I will join you in a moment. Rest.”  
“You won’t.”  
Anhe’s eyes widened. He turned to face LoTe again, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, his delicate, ebony locks falling to his knees. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists then slowly released. There was no way for LoTe to understand this. He had seen Anessimbery’s mother only once and by then it was too late. She wasn’t the woman she wanted to be and that broke Anhe’s heart.  
“Creation Day is tomorrow. Your daughter is going to shatter a crystal tomorrow. You’re going to show them all who we are tomorrow.” LoTe stood, pointing at Anhe. “You’re going to perform tomorrow. Please will you stop thinking and just sleep? Allow your mind to be empty, for a few hours that is all I ask, Anhe.”  
“It will be her first.”  
“All the better reason for you to be rested-“  
“Not her…”  
LoTe gritted his teeth. “Why…?” He shook his head, hissing: “Why must it always be about her? She is nothing to you now-she-she’s nothing at all now!”  
“To you, she’s a phantom but to me she’s a lingering spirit whose connection is me. She cannot leave this plane until I am destroyed.”  
“Don’t talk nonsense, just listen! She disappeared without a trace, leaving you, your daughter and an old Arcanio book. That’s it.”  
“There is something missing, LoTe. I can’t help but feel she left the book for me…”  
“You taught her how to do all those magic spells and what of it? A book. It’s probably one of your own books, Anhe, did you think of that?”  
“Why would she write in my book?”  
“What did she right?”  
“I don’t know. It’s in the Tana’s tongue…”  
LoTe’s face went pale. “The Tana?”  
Anhe nodded. “Mm…”  
“How did she learn that?”  
“’ow did she learn that?’ You think I have the answer? Why don’t you ask the stars, that’s where her head was! Why don’t you venture into the Barelands, leave us like she did to find answers?!”  
“Watch that sharp tongue, Anhe. I knew nothing of her.”  
“Then you will never understand why I can’t forget her! She left this-this mystery for me to solve while our daughter grows up unsure if she should deny magic or embrace it or leave all together!”  
“Anhe, no one is leaving!”  
“She did!”  
“What would happen if she were to stay?! What would she say about me?”  
Anhe pursed his lips, swallowing hard. He…wasn’t sure. She wouldn’t keep quiet. She would either become suddenly violent with LoTe, causing a horrific catastrophe in front of their daughter or she would…leave. Leave the room to avoid LoTe at all costs then cause more damage to their home.  
“I won’t let this woman haunt you anymore. Rest, darling…” LoTe placed his hand on the small of Anhe’s back, resting his head on his shoulder, pulling Anhe closer to him. He kissed his ear softly, intertwining their fingers. Anhe’s stoic head began to fall, his chin lowering to his chest then bobbing towards LoTe. He allowed LoTe to pull him even closer, his head finding a nice place to nestle in his neck. Anhe couldn’t stand restraining a smile with this one around. He allowed one to form on his face, LoTe barely even noticing, for he was capturing every essence of Anhe through only his touch.  
“I will rest…darling.”  
LoTe nodded but refused to let go of him. He wouldn’t allow that woman to infiltrate Anhe’s mind anymore, she was too much for him to handle. He could barely handle magic as is and LoTe voiced how he felt about that nonsense. He told Anhe that it was too dangerous for him, that he wasn’t designed to withstand such an untamable force. But whenever he mentioned it, Anhe would ask who had designed him and twist it into a foolish conversation about the gods. The amount of times LoTe would try to defend him from his own mind was enough to stage a war, the battleground being their hearts. LoTe didn’t allow himself to be sick of this, sick of playing the comfort whenever Anhe stabbed himself with the thought of Anessimbery’s mother again, he couldn’t allow it. If he did, he wouldn’t love Anhe for Anhe. This man was born to find answers and he could always find them. But when he can’t find one, he allows it to consume him until it is solved. It must be solved, or no one will ever find the truth.  
Determination. That’s why he loves him.  
“Lo…” Anhe lightly placed his fingertips on LoTe’s head. “You berate me for not resting yet you force me to stand here?”  
“I’m a distraction.”  
“Indeed, you are,” Anhe chuckled. “Indeed, you are…”  
“Is she gone?”  
“Hm?”  
“Never mind,” LoTe grinned. “Perfect.”  
They both jumped at a twinkling near the door. LoTe pushed Anhe back, revealing his weapon and pressing a finger to his lips. He stood on the ends of his feet, legs extending to diminish the time he would waste by simply stepping. He heard Anhe blow out the flames next to their bed, cueing LoTe to crouch before he reached the door.  
The door opened with a whistle, LoTe’s ears twinging at the sound of a piercing shriek. He gripped his weapon tighter as he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, his mind too occupied by the stressful noise to realize Anessimbery was standing right in front of him. She was just as scared as he was.  
“Ane!” Anhe snapped his fingers, returning the room to its proper lighting. “What in Hart’s name are you doing up this late?”  
“I heard you talking about my mama again…”  
LoTe’s eyes snapped open. He flipped the knife shut before lowering himself to her level, gazing into her delicate eyes that were shiny with tears. He reached under her shoulders, lifting her onto his knee and holding her close. Puny whimpers began to emit from his shirt and he held her head. She was too young to have known her mother, but she did know someone before LoTe. She didn’t know who this person was, all she knew is that this person was her caretaker for now, until Papa got back from working. This person wasn’t a reflection of her, not like Papa was. Maybe that’s why Anessimbery was glued to him until he had to leave. Maybe it wasn’t Anhe who saw who he should be in her, but it was Anessimbery who saw who she would be in him.  
Anhe removed his shoes, allowing his bare feet to touch the ground. The soft noise caused Anessimbery to reveal her eyes over LoTe’s shoulder, staring at her father in a familiar curiosity. She watched him widen his stance, flex his arms then hit his chest twice. Her eyes sparkled as she watched him perform their greeting, the one all Arau must learn from a young age. He smiled, cautiously hitting his chest with mellow fists so he wouldn’t hurt himself. This was just to make her happy, make her unafraid of her people. Anhe was the only Arau that Anessimbery spoke openly to, the rest were strangers, even if she was the only child born in years. They didn’t treat her like an Arau, they treated her like an achievement, a trophy and Anhe received all the praise. She didn’t like that.  
He began to grunt at her, stepping closer, remaining in his wide stance. LoTe placed her down and she sat, watching him walk towards her father. He went into a wide stance as well, slapped his legs and clapped his hands. Anhe turned towards him, interested growls escaping from his chest cavity. LoTe let out a raspy whine from his throat, clasping his hands together and stepping towards Anhe with kind intent. They locked eyes, both barely able to contain their smiles as they made an X shape with their arms, hitting their shoulders and laughing, Anessimbery standing and doing the same.  
“Ha!” Anhe moved towards her. “Ha! Ha!”  
“Ha!” She reached up for her Papa. He scooped her up without hesitance, rubbing his nose on her cheek. She wrapped her arms around him, trying her best to hide a yawn as she buried her face in his shoulder.  
“See, now it’s time for bed, little creature.”  
“H…a!”  
“Nah, nah, no more ha, time for sleeping,” LoTe cleared his throat. “For all of us.”  
The three of them stepped out of the room, placing Anessimbery in the yellow and red basket that was still too big for her. She’d had it since she could barely kick her feet and at this age, most Arau would’ve outgrown their baskets. But the Tana Anhe had bought it from was convinced he was going to need a bigger one. With the way they’re paying to stay, the merchant was right…  
“What will happen tomorrow?”  
“What do you mean, little one?”  
“What will happen when I break a crystal?”  
“You’ll earn Hart’s will.”  
“LoTe said I’d get magic.”  
“Yes. Hart will either bless you with his will and bestow a divine destiny upon you or you will have a different fate, one without magic.”  
“Oh…”  
“That is only if the crystal is empty.”  
“But I can already do magic. What if the crystal is empty but I can still do magic?”  
“Then Hart has something even bigger planned for you.”  
“Is that good?”  
“There’s no good or bad, Ane. What you choose to do with your fate is what you wish, but the gods will decide if you are worthy.”  
“How will I know if I’m worthy?”  
Anhe laughed. “We don’t know until our hearts stop beating, Ane.”  
“Is mother worthy?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“Is LoTe worthy?”  
Anhe sighed. “My love…” He sat next to her, holding her hand. “No matter what happens, you will be worthy to me. Worthier than anyone I know.”  
“Why?”  
Anhe didn’t respond, he just sighed, kissing the top of her head, rubbing her cheek while gazing into her eyes then extinguishing the light surrounding them.


	2. 2: “No tradition is worth any life.”

The Haze above them was still mute when they had left their home, golden jewelry jingling with each step they took. Anhe had decided to fasten a handle to Anessimbery’s basket so she would be comfortable on the journey there. He gave her a variety of books to read and medium-sized staff designed for an adolescent. It had no magic left in it, it was Anhe’s old tool when he was just starting to learn the ways of the Arcanio. Since Anessimbery had learned so young, she needed a vessel to contain all that magical energy in her bouncing, baby heart.   
Anessimbery dragged the golden stick across the sand like she was the one rowing the boat that was her little basket, her being the mysterious shawl-wearing captain who would soon to be revealed as an all-powerful magic user. Her crew would kneel before her, begging her to bless them for being so loyal and brave.   
Her little dream was interrupted by LoTe, who gently adjusted the thin mask around her mouth and nose, pulling hit up so that no sand would enter her nostrils. He patted her shawl covered head and swung his knife around, the hole in the hilt hanging on to one finger. Anhe gave him a disapproving look, one that said, ‘if that blade goes into me or my child, I’ll swing you around as fast as you’re swinging your precious little blade’.  
LoTe decided to put the knife away.  
Anessimbery was silent most of the way there. She wasn’t particularly excited about Creation Day, not like she used to be. She’ll still love the magic shows, dancing and food but she isn’t looking forward to the ceremony. Mostly because it’s confusing and boring. The leaders of each tribe, the Council, call the youngest members of each tribe to break a crystal found in the Ret, the region far to the east. If there are no members young enough, the tribe is skipped until the next Creation Day. The Arau had been skipped over for decades until Anessimbery came along, sparking joy throughout Iana, Tsena and Enceres. They would gather from across the planet just to get a glimpse at her.   
It wasn’t fun. Not one bit.  
She was more than this little miracle. She wasn’t even a miracle, according to the way her mother acted, she was more a nuisance than anything. Her mother ran away for a reason, why would it not be her? Anessimbery wasn’t a particularly easy child, she still gets in trouble, even more than she could’ve when her mother ran off. Papa tells her it wasn’t her fault, that her mother was that way even before Anessimbery was born. Then why didn’t she run away before?  
“An anchor.”   
Anessimbery snapped out of her trance and looked up at her father who was talking to a merchant. The merchant was a Tatur, a fluffy one with large ears and dead eyes that seemed to search every which way. Papa handed them the coin and in return the Tatur dropped a small pebble in his hand. Anessimbery sneered. She knew that wasn’t an anchor, it wasn’t big enough. If anything, it’s an anchor for the home’s dustyard creatures who burrow in the sand and sometimes get into LoTe’s boots.  
“It’s magic, little girl.”  
“It doesn’t feel like magic.”  
“Sure, it is! Here, have your Papa try it.”  
“Don’t call him that.”  
Papa dropped the pebble in the sand and it transformed into a big metal sphere, a thick chain popping out from it’s rear. The merchant’s pointy smile displayed their malicious satisfaction. Papa tapped it and it returned to its compact size. Just as he was about to put it in his pocket, LoTe snatched it from his hand and examined it himself.   
Anessimbery leaned forward in interest. LoTe squinted at the tiny device, flipping it over and over and over and over until he found what he was looking for. He pointed to a puny little metal head on the very end of the pebble, leaning in close so Papa could see.   
“This isn’t magic. This isn’t even Tet Tech, it’s some pathetic copy.” He tossed the device at the merchant. “Give him back his coin and we’ll go somewhere else.”  
The merchant sneered, placing one of Papa’s shimmering coin bags back on the counter. Papa took his time sliding the bag back into his pocket, making sure his eyes were burned into the merchant’s, so they knew not to do the same thing to them again.   
“If the Tet can make somethin’ like this, it couldn’t be any better.”  
“Oh, of course. The Tet are savage traitors as we all know.” Anessimbery could hear the daggers escaping from LoTe’s throat.   
“Exactly,” The merchant nodded. “All they care about is their shiny gadgets and their half-baked ceremonies for the gods…”  
LoTe laughed, removing his shawl to reveal his pointed ears, pulling up his sleeves to reveal his sharp, dark markings. The final touch was removing his mask to reveal the soft, round face of the Tet, the one they all seem to struggle to grow out of. But his eyes dug into the poor merchant as much as his knife dug into the crude, wooden shack he created. 

Papa clapped at him. “Stop it. We have to go.”  
“Right, right, where are my manners? Terribly sorry for the damage, will a shiny gadget cover it?”  
“LoTe.”  
He stepped back, following the group and turning up his shawl once again to block from the Haze and the dust. Anessimbery watched him grumpily pull up his sleeves and hide his hands, fidgeting with whatever was in his pocket. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, whenever LoTe went out with the both of them, someone would always snicker, make a remark or point at his ears.   
It was rare to see an Arau and a Tet together. Anessimbery was taught that the Arau had banished the Tet because they were the result of the first ancestors, a mistake in their blood that couldn’t be fixed, so they simply hid it away. She didn’t understand why, there are more mixing in the tribes now than ever.  
“Don’t encourage them, LoTe.”  
“I didn’t say anything, I just did a little architectural improvement to his shithole.”  
“Mouth.”  
“Yes, I have one.” LoTe cracked his fingers. “But I didn’t use it. For your sake.”  
“And Anessimbery.”  
“I think it would’ve been good if you kicked his ass!” Anessimbery giggled into her hands.  
“Ane-!“ Papa gasped. “Do not say that! Your mouth is precious don’t taint it with LoTe’s rage fueled words…”  
“He’s right, small one, keep that mouth sacred. I, however-“  
“LoTe.”  
“Fine. Only because it’s Creation Day.”  
“And the day we met…”  
LoTe rolled his eyes. “And the day we met.”   
The sparkling noise of various accessories amongst Iseiling necks and arms picked up the pace in Papa’s legs. LoTe would slow him down, pulling him back but nothing could stop him from speeding towards the edge of a dusty hill, admiring the ceremony before them.  
The Council had already arrived; Irresh of the Tatur tribe, Din of the Tet, with his six sons, Rarmankil of the Arau and Filedine of the Tana, with his mystical daughter.  
Rarmankil stepped down from his place amongst the other council members and greeted Anessimbery and her father with a delicate chest pat. He lowered his head, exposing the scars on the very top of his beaten skull. Anessimbery tilted her head at him, responding with a chest pat of her own and a gentle whine.   
“I am glad to see you well, Anhe.”  
“Better than last year, that’s for sure.”  
Rarmankil laughed. “So glad to see you brought your daughter and your friend, yes?”  
Papa shook his head. “He’s not my friend.”  
“Yes, he is…” Anessimbery mumbled before LoTe placed a hand on her head.  
“He is more than that.”  
“Lover then?”  
Papa nodded. “Yes, my chief. My…lover…”  
“You’re bringing us to prosperity with this family you have here. I am grateful for that. You have suffered a great deal, you deserve this happiness.” Rarmankil stepped towards LoTe, placing a hand on his chest and nodding. LoTe smiled, lowering his head as well.  
Anessimbery started at her father, a bit confused. He always said that LoTe was a friend, she had never seen him act like he loved him, show him affection the way other pairings around them do.  
“Papa if you love him, why don’t you show it?”  
She saw her father’s eyes grow cold. “Darling, we discussed this. The Arau do not treat each other that way when many eyes are watching.”  
“But he is not Arau.”  
“He loves me enough to respect our ways.”  
“I don’t understand. I don’t always-“  
“You will one day.” He inhaled through his teeth. “Go with LoTe while I talk with our chief. Do not cause trouble. Any trouble…”  
Before she could respond, LoTe snatched her out of the basket, held her hand and quickly walked her in the other direction. She turned to see her father still talking with the chief, wondering what had irritated him all of a sudden. She didn’t stop looking, hoping his eyes would catch hers before they had flown too far away.  
“Why did he do that?”  
LoTe didn’t respond, his eyes darted frantically around the area; there were stalls selling cloth, food and jewelry. Mingled Iseilings drawing circles in the dust, playing with their magic. More were greeting one another with their appropriate gestures.   
Anessimbery was pulled to the greeting group, but she felt herself resisting. She saw the daughter of the Tana tribe amongst them. Her hair long and black like the night, both eyes pointed and purple, staring deep into the face of her comrade, as if she was studying every feature they possessed. The dress she wore covered all the way up to her neck, probably choking her at this very moment. Anessimbery expected her smile to reveal thousands of sharp teeth, like the Tana would traditionally have but when she opened her mouth, they were all flat like Papa’s and hers.   
As LoTe pulled her forward, an overwhelming sense of anger washed over her, the dust being the thin wall between them. She grunted and pulled back, the image she saw of the daughter became her eyes’ only focus when she looked in that direction. LoTe broke through this wall quickly, barely even aware of Anessimbery’s distress. He wasn’t listening. She had gotten to the point where she sank to the ground, refusing to move as LoTe dragged her.   
“Anessimbery-!” He paused for a moment when one of her yanks were particularly strong. “What are you doing?”  
“I don’t want to go there.”  
“Your papa wants you to meet new people, little one, just be kind.”  
“I won’t be if they aren’t.”  
“They will be, it’s Creation Day!”  
“I don’t CARE-“  
“How cute…” Both Anessimbery and LoTe looked up to see Filedine, leader of the Tana tribe standing before them.   
LoTe dusted himself off and stood up straight, patting his chest and reaching his hand out. Filedine took it with ease, a kind smile on his face. He patted his chest lightly, respecting the Tet culture as they were all required to do during this day. He leapt right into talking about the ceremony and how excited he was to unveil his daughter’s strength. Anessimbery tilted her head in curiosity, wondering if he was aware of the unsettling feeling in the air whenever his daughter was around.   
“Don’t boast about me to strangers, Father.” Filedine’s daughter stepped forward. “You’ll cause a scene…”  
“I’m just trying to get lips moving already! You’ll be talked about for years after this evening, don’t you agree, Syrreth?”  
“Not as much as the little Arau girl.” Syrreth’s eyes darted in Anessimbery’s direction. “Are you not her?”  
“She is! Ane, stand up please.” LoTe held her hands and forced her onto her feet.  
Syrreth leaned over, slowly tilting her head to the side as she examined Anessimbery. “It must be fun being the only child in your entire tribe.”  
“It’s not.” Anessimbery fired out, hiding behind LoTe’s legs before he yanked her back out again.  
“I suppose it would be lonely.”  
“Yeah. Goodbye.” She turned to walk away but LoTe didn’t let go of her hand.  
“Are you excited for the ceremony?”  
“No.”  
“You’re the only Arau born in decades, it’s your day!”  
“It’s yours too. It’s everyone’s. Not just mine.”  
“Oh, how kind. You’d make a wonderful chief.”  
“Thank you. Goodbye.”   
“Anessimbery, be kind.”  
Syrreth smiled, unsettlingly, sending a shiver up LoTe’s spine. He scanned this girl up and down, realizing she couldn’t be too far from Anessimbery’s age, yet she spoke like she was just about ready to rule over the Tana. When his eyes caught hers, he felt his stomach drop, his blood stream seeming to slow from a rapid flow to a somber wave, her eyes seeming to glow brighter and brighter. Her voice was more melodious, a regretful song that his mind couldn’t seem to break from.  
“She’s fine. She’s too young to understand. I deal with this all the time.”  
“All the time?”  
“Some of the Tana children are a little too…fiery…” Syrreth’s eyes seemed to flicker at her father’s statement. “Why don’t you two sit near each other once the ceremony starts? To ease some of those anxieties you have, Anessimbery.”  
“No.” Anessimbery shot out.  
“Why not?”  
“Because I don’t like you.”  
Filedine and Syrreth laughed, a series of joyful snickers and clicks that was enough to even send LoTe running. You could see the resemblance in these two, the black hair, the flat teeth and the skin paler than the dust below them.   
“It’s true,” Anessimbery interrupted. “You shouldn’t know my name. Everyone doesn’t know my name.”  
“They will learn it soon. I’ve already spoken to your father, he knows what you’re capable of.”  
“Alright enough…serious talk.” LoTe snapped out of his trance.   
Anessimbery pulled on LoTe’s fingers to release herself, scratching and peeling as best she could then backing up quickly before running off to find someone else to be near. She heard LoTe call for her, but she didn’t stop running until she saw Papa and several others gathered in a circle.   
The ceremony was about to start.   
“Anessimbery!” LoTe snatched her by the arm, lifting her slightly off the ground. “What is wrong with you?! Why did you-“  
“LoTe, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t handle my child like that.” Papa stepped over.  
“Anhe, listen for a moment please…”  
“No.” He stared LoTe down, his jaw clenched under his mask. “We will discuss this before her ceremony.”  
Anessimbery said nothing. She gazed at both of her guardians, Papa’s eyes burning into LoTe’s. She saw LoTe clench his jaw in an effort to cap his emotions, keep his mouth shut so that he wouldn’t ruin this perfect day for either of them. She could see the regret in his shaking eyes.  
Finally, Papa turned away, his hands floating delicately in front of him as golden sparks emitted from his fingertips. LoTe took Anessimbery by the hand, gripping her fingers, tightly. Now she knew how the hilt of his knife felt whenever he heard a simple bump in the night. She felt her heart swell all the way up to her throat, nearly choking her as she struggled to fight back tears. She didn’t mean to upset them that much, especially not today. But she couldn’t bring herself to be anywhere near that girl. Her father was just fine, he was kind, until he started to laugh with his daughter in an attempt to make Anessimbery feel better through a pleasant jaunt with his daughter that only made her heart sink into the depths of her tummy, anxiously knowing the only reason her father wasn’t there with her was because he was  
Working.  
Again.  
So, she had to sit there and be patient with someone who, who she loved like her father but wasn’t her father.   
“LoTe…”   
He didn’t respond.  
“Te-Te, I’m sorry.”  
He stared straight ahead, black-laced boots floating above the dust as they past dozens of celebrating Iseilings, their faces, features and glittering adornments became miniscule flashes in Anessimbery’s eyes. She desperately tried to give her feet a moment’s rest but feared LoTe would drag her across the dust if she slowed even a little bit. They passed through groups smiling and laughing, couples dancing and tens of Iseiling greetings that she quietly wished to be a part of. She adored meeting new people. She just didn’t like to be treated like an object.  
She wasn’t a trophy…  
LoTe finally slowed his pace, allowing Anessimbery to stand beside him. He didn’t look at her. Instead, he stared straight ahead, his face relaxing as he gazed at the Iseiling sky. His grip loosened on her hand as well, granting her permission to let her arm fall to her side. She sat down in the dust, not caring if her new garments got dirty. They were already filthy with guilt as she stared at nothing with LoTe.  
“What am I to you, Ane?”  
Anessimbery felt her chest tighten. She tilted her head, unsure if this was a question to truly answer or one of the questions LoTe liked to ask but he really knew the answer and was planning on lecturing her for the bad thing she did.   
“LoTe. You’re Papa’s…” She hesitated. Papa said he wasn’t anymore…  
“Your papa’s what?”  
“You…you were Papa’s friend…” She bit her lip. “But you’re not any…anymore. Right…?”  
“Don’t tiptoe your words, dearest.” He finally turned to her, lowering to his knees to see the whole of her face. He exhaled, holding his palms up. He taught her that this was the Tet’s way of displaying vulnerability and that if a Tet was to ever show his palms to her, she could trust him.   
Just before he was about to start the next sentence, she placed her hands in his, palms facing down. They were both dirty from the dust, their gloves removed once they started to mingle with the others. Her hands only covering a third of his, he stared down at the tiny little appendages, her skin was still soft and undamaged from the dangerous trap of time. He felt a rush of relief when his hands relaxed, his thumbs lightly resting on the tops of her hands.   
“Te-Te…”  
“Ane?”  
“Are you my Papa too?”  
“Do you want to call me that?”  
“No, cuz then it’ll get all confusing…”  
“Then you can keep calling me LoTe.”  
“What if I called you, Nahna?”  
“No, most definitely not!”   
She giggled. “I can still say Te-Te, yeah?”  
“Yes, of course you can.”   
“Good!” She smiled big, pulling herself into him for a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the cloth on her head, quietly wishing Arau customs didn’t stand in the way of this pleasant moment.  
They rose from the dust, turning back to the festivities just a moment before the drum sounded off. A deep, tumbling beat emitted from the enormous instruments, each whack of the skin becoming quicker, with much more purpose. The Iseilings gathered from their respective areas, LoTe offering to lift Anessimbery up off the ground so he could run them to the best spot. She shook her head, her little feet shooting her off into the massive crowd.  
The dust kicked up behind her, leaving giant clouds where her tail end once was, the blood and magic inside of her flowing faster than she’s ever felt before. She heard the beat get louder, her heart thumping to the thrilling sound. The drums were soon joined by various jangly instruments, the ones that the pretty Iseilings wore on their legs, arms and even tails. She saw the them step to the side to make way for the mages, Papa included. She picked up the pace, leaving LoTe behind.  
He wasn’t too far. He watched her run with such a purpose, her determined sprint being a mere jog for him. He ran a bit faster, snatching her up as they went, his ear twinging at the tiny shriek that instinctively popped out of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pushed through the crowd, the Iseilings only getting rowdier the closer he got to the front.   
“Papa!” Anessimbery called. “Papa! Papa!”  
Some of the other mages snickered, gesturing her father to face in their direction. The moment he turned, she saw the deadly serious façade he was sporting through his mask melt into unadulterated joy. The wrinkles around his eyes swallowed them like little marbles, his cheekbones assisting in the heist. He gave her a kind chest pat, her reciprocating along with LoTe.   
LoTe placed her on the dust and held her hand as they watched the show unfold. The mages stood across from one another, some with staff, wand or simply their hands. They took a single step back, one by one, then returned to the original spot as the sky above them brightened in an egg shape. They pointed towards the gaping Haze, colorful lights shooting out to represent all four gods: Hart, the divine of Death, represented by the color white from Anhe’s hand. The divine of Life, Nepe, danced out of the staff of the Tatur mage, a pleasant golden yellow shooting out. The Tana mage stood proudly, waving a delicate hand towards the Haze, a stunning purple blasting above them to represent the divine of wealth, Tlea. And finally, for the divine of love, Ruep, the kind-hearted Tet mage lifted their petite wand towards the Haze, allowing an adoring light pink to appear in the sky above them.  
An aggressive wave of emotion washed over the crowd, an intermingling of joy, introspective thought and philosophical guessing invading the minds of every Iseiling. Even LoTe, who always had stern doubts about the importance of the Arcanio arts, stood baffled in amazement. Anessimbery watched the colors rip open the egg-shape even further, bits of the Haze forcibly commingling with the dust that was picked up from the energy the mages were evoking.   
Time seemed to dawdle around Anessimbery as she observed these Arcanio masters unveil their talents to their people. Some of them were smiling, while some were completely serious. Papa was one of the completely serious ones. He had always told her that if he didn’t take his work seriously, no one would take him seriously and that’s where danger takes its toll.  
He focuses his entire being on the Arcanio because he wasn’t born naturally gifted, like Anessimbery, so he needs to work much harder. Much harder than these other mages, who seem to be performing this show with ease. They weren’t visibly exhausted. Not like Papa was. Anessimbery couldn’t help but blame herself for his exhaustion, he did always say how hard it was taking care of her when it was just the two of them.   
But that isn’t true anymore, he has LoTe.  
She had the urge to turn and look at him, but her eyes were glued to the Haze above, mingling with the dust to create a series of specific glowing patterns on the ground. The dust and Haze began to swirl around the symbols, forcing the ground to rise as the dust rose. It did this only three times, creating three spaces perfect for displaying the next ceremony: the crystal breaking.   
Anessimbery stepped back, whining a bit as she realized she was probably going to be the one to sit up there, the one that all the Arau would count on to properly represent them. The mages stomped their feet, clearing the dust and Haze away. The crowd began to clap rhythmically, a single monotone beat from thousands of Iseilings, smiles and nods being exchanged among them.   
Anessimbery covered her ears, the sound overwhelming her as she imagined herself sitting on one of those pedestals, everyone staring at her. Iseilings she hadn’t even met, the disapproving stares of the Council as tears began to run down her cheeks out of fear of all the eyes clung onto her like her dust-resistant clothing. She pulled at her sleeves, her shawl, her mask, anything to make this sinking feeling of uncertainty exit her body. She felt her throat begin to close up, her eyes not burning from the dust but burning from the splitting headache that was going to arrive at any moment. Will Papa be done by then? Probably not. He’s always doing Arcanio work.  
“Ane!” She whipped around to see her father standing beside LoTe, his face paler than usual. “I’ve been calling you for ages, what’s wrong?”  
She shook her head. “I don’t want to go up.”  
“What do you mean?”  
I don’t want to go up! I can’t-it’s bad!”  
“Ane, it isn’t bad, its an amazing thing, I promise it’s fun!”  
“NO!” Anessimbery shrieked. “It’s not fun, it’s bad! It’s bad, it’s bad, it’s bad, it’s bad!”  
Filedine and his daughter stepped forward. “Is she alright?”  
“She’s okay, she’s just scared…” LoTe said before lowering himself to look Anessimbery in the eyes.  
Syrreth tilted her head to the side. “You’re scared? That’s okay! I was scared too when I went.”  
“I don’t want to!”  
Syrreth stepped forward, leaning over a bit to face Anessimbery, causing LoTe to rise with a slow hesitance. She smiled kindly, her crafted face and wide eyes staring directly into Anessimbery’s. She offered her hand, which was covered with a sheer black glove, so you could see the flame-like markings on her wrist which disappeared into the long-sleeved velvet top she was presenting.   
“Let me hold your hand. I won’t bite, I promise.” She smiled again, flashing her flat teeth that could cause Anessimbery no harm.   
Anessimbery still shook her head, the subtle sense of doubt filling her chest as she stared at the girl in front of her. Syrreth remained where she was, her eyes piercing into Anessimbery’s as she waited patiently for her hand. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She barely took ‘I don’t like you’ for an answer. This was a girl who had everything she had ever wanted, given to her on a shiny golden platter, the rich spirit of Tlea truly embedded in her and her tribe. She was to rule the Tana one day, making her father proud. She would place gold everywhere, perform ritualistic animal sacrifices to their god whilst covered in the most valuable resources that Anessimbery’s people could’ve used to warm their homes and cook their meals.   
“Anessimbery.” Her eyes darted towards her father. His face was stern. “Follow Syrreth. Once this is over, we can go home right away. Just finish what we’ve started.” He sighed. “Please.”  
Before his little one could answer, she found her hand already in Syrreth’s, the girl standing up slowly and patiently waiting for Anessimbery to cue her to walk. Anessimbery simply stared, expecting her to drag her towards the pedestal but Syrreth only stared back. Calmly, without any malicious intent but without that hint of kindness she had for just that moment when gazing into Anessimbery’s eyes.  
Finally, a quiet drumming began amongst the Council. Anessimbery stepped towards it, cueing Syrreth to bring her to them. The Tet and Arau council members began to grunt whilst the Tana clapped along with the Tatur. The crowd began to clap again, a few smacks on the legs to properly sync with the council members and a few whoops and hyah’s here and there to remember that this is a rare ceremony. The Iseilings could be as rowdy as they wanted.  
Syrreth assisted Anessimbery onto the center pedestal, the only time her age truly hindered her in a time like this. She felt her heart beating hard in her chest, her throat threatening to close again as she attempted to look past all the expectant eyes. She didn’t want to attempt to find LoTe or Papa in the crowd, that would be too many faces at once. She exhaled, her entire little body shaking as she waited for Irresh to finish her prayer to the gods.  
“Nepe, we call on you to give this child the best life, give her what she deserves, for she is your child. Tlea, we call on you to give this child the best of luck in wealth and riches, allow her to prosper amongst her tribe without an inch of doubt. Ruep, we call on you to bless her with the power of love, love that will never die, love that will never fade and love that will never betray her. Lastly, Hart, this is a child of your tribe. The Arau have worshipped you for so long, begging you to bless them with a miracle after such a tragedy as death. May you grant her peace when her time is done here on Isei, welcoming her with open arms into the Divine Sanctuary.”   
The crowd clapped and stomped the ground. Filedine and Rarmankil placed the crystals on the pedestals next to Anessimbery. To her left was a large, jet black diamond to represent the divine of death her people worshipped. To her right was a large, dark blue sapphire. A crystal that could easily contain the contents of magic or an obscene amount of dust.  
Din stepped towards her, his ears twitching a bit as some of the dust swirled around them. She handed her Papa’s staff, which Anessimbery had used to play captain just a few hours ago.   
“You may choose to break the crystal of your divine or the crystal your tribe has found in the vacant lands of Enceres.”  
“I-it doesn’t matter?”  
“Whichever you choose, child, will determine your faith.”  
Anessimbery nodded, glancing at both crystals on either side of her. She had never seen such similar crystals with one breaker before. The dark blue of the sapphire was enhanced by the dim Haze and dust surrounding them. The black of the diamond was sleek and tantalizing, a perfect representation of how beautiful and truly relieving death can be once it arrives. She gripped Papa’s golden staff tight, inhaling deeply before swinging at random.  
She hit the sapphire.  
Gasps and exclaims of astonishment filled her ears but it was quickly replaced by the sound of shrieks and frantic screaming. Anessimbery opened her eyes to see a massive black shadow-being hovering above the Iseilings with threatening ghostly claws and teeth. She yelped, hopping down from the pedestal and towards a familiar face who tragically had to be…  
“Syrreth!” Filedine called, forming a shield around him and the Iseilings near him. “Syrreth! Come here, now!”  
“I’m not going to leave her!”  
“This was her doing!”  
Syrreth popped a hip and rolled her eyes. “I disagree.” She grabbed Anessimbery by the hand once she was close enough and attempted to run off with her.  
The creature shrieked, resonating throughout everyone’s ears, stopping some in their tracks. It tossed around several Iseilings who were desperately trying to maneuver through the crowd, pushing them over and fanning them away with its massive hands. It slammed its fists against the ground, sending Iseilings flying. Flashes of light and arrows flew towards the creature but it all simply went through it like it was made of the very dust below them.  
“Anessimbery!” Papa was flying above the creature with Arcanio wings. He shot at the creature relentlessly, his eyes scanning the ground only to locate his daughter.  
“Papa! Papa-here! Papa!!!” Anessimbery felt her throat about to close up again, the hot threat of tears behind her eyes.   
The creature turned. Its eyes were glowing a malicious red, one as deep as the blood that swam amongst the Arcanio in Anessimbery’s veins. Its fading mouth stretched into a horrific smile as it sluggishly approached her and Syrreth. Its smoky exterior swept more dust off the ground, tossing it into the air, becoming a hindrance for the mages below.  
Syrreth growled, guarding Anessimbery with her entire body. She waved her hand at it, trying to bat it away, but this meager attempt to drive the creature away only drew it closer. It shrieked again, causing the hair on Anessimbery’s neck to stand up. She covered her ears, whining at the noise and wishing it would just stop doing that.  
“See? You’re upsetting her! Stop it-“ Syrreth was almost swatted away by the creature. “Hey!”  
The creature grumbled, swiping at her like a mere insect in its way.   
“Syrreth, stop! You’re irritating it!” Papa called.  
“I know!”   
He furrowed his eyebrows, eyes widening as he dodged another swipe from the creature. “Please STOP irritating it!”  
Syrreth growled, lifting Anessimbery up with barely an effort, sprinting away from the creature as fast as possible. She was even faster than LoTe. Anessimbery could feel the heat through the other girl’s skin, the warmth of the energy from the Arcanio in Syrreth’s veins. It was an uncomfortable heat, like she was sweating but there was no fluid to be found.   
They skidded to a stop on a dune, Syrreth practically throwing Anessimbery like a wooden doll. Anessimbery watched the creature claw its way towards them, its blob-like bottom half separating, growing taller until it resembled legs. It managed to whack her father into the sand, the wind whistling as he tore through the air and landed on the ground with a thud. The creature sprinted towards the girls, tearing through the dust and the Iseilings under its feet.  
Anessimbery screamed. She didn’t know what else to do. Clearly, Arcanio wasn’t working, not even the best weapons the Tet had brought could get through this thing. So, she just screamed.   
“It’s okay!” Syrreth rolled her eyes, leaning over and placing a hand on Anessimbery’s shoulder. “I know you’re not too good at Arcanio, but we don’t need it!”  
“W-we’re gonna die!” Anessimbery whimpered.  
“No, no!” Syrreth lowered to her knees, hugging the little girl. “We’ll be okay!”  
“How?! It-it-!”  
“Look!” She pointed at the crowd below the creature, the Iseilings it had presumably stepped over all perfectly unharmed and attempting to subdue the creature with their own magic and weapons. “If they go through it, we will too.”  
Anessimbery’s mouth fell open. The creature wasn’t able to touch anything except for the dust. It was completely harmless. She turned to Syrreth, who’s smile was suddenly brighter than before. Anessimbery took her hand, unconsciously, allowing Syrreth to squeeze it just one time.  
“I know how to stop it. It’s eyes aren’t made of smoke-“  
“You poke its eye?“  
“Yeah!” Syrreth pulled both of her hands to her chest, a huge grin on her face. “Watch this…”  
Syrreth took a step back, releasing Anessimbery’s hand, her smile never leaving her face. She made her hands flat, waving them just below her torso, summoning purple smoke around her feet. The thicker the smoke became, the higher it rose until it completely enveloped her in a cylinder of smoke. Anessimbery tilted her head, curious as to why the smoke seemed incredibly similar in texture to the creature that was  
Right. In front of them.  
“Syrreth!” Anessimbery called. “Syrreth, look-“ She yelped as the creature reached for her, her feet instinctively hopping her backwards.   
She saw Syrreth snap her arms down, clearing the smoke she had summoned. Anessimbery’s eyes widened, her mouth falling agape as she gazed at the new Tana before her. It was still Syrreth, just much taller, pale hands replaced with purple and maroon hued talons, scales as shimmery as the jewelry she was wearing before. Her hair had hardened into a black crown arching over her skull, her snout and chin the same shining purple as her talons, following all the way down to her chest then shifting back into the stunning maroon color. Her wings were massive, wider than the smoky shadow creature before them, teeth a bright, metallic gold.   
She inhaled, a grumble vibrating the surrounding area, shaking Anessimbery to her very core. She turned to Anessimbery, gave her a toothy grin then exhaled, black and gold flames flowing out from her mouth and nostrils, entrapping the creature in fire. The creature didn’t scream or growl, it merely stared at Syrreth as she did this, allowing itself to slowly be burned to death.   
Anessimbery frowned, stepping back as she watched the creature die like this was its only purpose. She shook her head, fear filling her chest, her legs pulling her across the dunes and back to the Iseilings. She didn’t feel the creature’s eyes on her, instead she felt her new friend, Syrreth, growling. The vibrations swam up Anessimbery’s feet and into her chest.  
“Why don’t you like me?” She heard that voice in her head. “I’ve only been nice to you…”   
Time began to laugh at her, slowly and melodiously as she kept her eyes on the dust in front of her. She tried to find LoTe or Papa but couldn’t spot them anywhere amongst all the bodies. When she broke into the crowd, she felt nothing but hands on her, attempting to grab her and pull her back, their concern overlooking her anxieties. They don’t care about how she’ll react when one of them successfully grabs her. They’ll hold her and ask her questions, even if she kicks and screams and kicks and screams and screams and kicks…  
She clapped her hands suddenly, to focus on a noise other than all the shouting. This brought forth a glittery blue sheer Arcanio armor which wrapped around her, moving as fluidly she did. When the Iseilings tried to touch her, it wouldn’t let their hands move any closer than a few inches from her skin.   
Anessimbery pushed through them all until the Arcanio whipped her to face a different way, her left side. There she spotted LoTe and Papa, both gazing at the fully-formed Tana in the distance. Papa was the first to see her.  
“Ane-!” He fell to his knees, the armor dropping once he was close to her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest and gripping her arms. LoTe fell as well, hugging her from the other side.   
“Little one…Little one, you’re okay…” LoTe held her face, turning her to face him. He absorbed every detail on her face, including the dirt on her cheeks and forehead.  
“Te-Te…” Anessimbery whimpered. She let the tears fall down her face, hugging both of them as much as her arms would allow.   
“You’re okay, Ane…” Papa rubbed her head. “You’re okay…”  
“No, Papa…” She sniffed, shaking her head. “No, I’m not…”


	3. A sky full of fire, a burning past is one to reckon with, by the time you are done, you will be suffocated by it.

The ceremony was now coming to a rapid close, the Iseilings doing their best to bring Syrreth down from her Pure state, her occasionally growling and trying to bat at the ones she didn’t want to touch her beautiful scales. Anessimbery was still in her father’s arms, now too afraid to walk on her own. She held on tight to his shawl, poking at his braids that peeked through the tousled garment. He kissed her on the side of the head occasionally, pressing his nose against her head-covering so he could take in her scent. Every time he thought about the ceremony, he felt his heart sink to his feet, the only solace he found was holding both of his darlings near him.   
He felt LoTe squeeze his hand. His eyes were tired, his brown skin dirtied to the point where they just looked like odd Tet markings. He had tried his hardest, leading the weaponry to defeat this unknown monstrosity that was bent on hurting…or…doing something to his daughter.   
His eyes widened. His daughter. She was his daughter now. A surge of joy swam through his skin, his mind going blank and his heart beating faster, with a purpose now. He gazed at the little girl in Anhe’s arms, her curls sneaking out from her shawl, bouncing as Anhe stepped. He adjusted his grip, intertwining his fingers with his partner’s. They were both exhausted, Anessimbery resting her cheek on her father’s shoulder, Anhe focusing his gaze on the path before them.   
“Ane…”  
“Papa?”  
“Are you sure you want me to teach you…” Anhe held a finger up, pausing himself before he coughed into his other shoulder. “Are you sure you want me to teach you?”  
“Te-Te can’t teach me.”  
Anhe chuckled. “No, he can’t.”   
“I can teach her to fight.” LoTe chimed in.  
“You can…” Anhe nodded, unsure if he was meant to take LoTe’s comment seriously. He sighed, adjusting his grip on the little one in his arms, the weight in his heart outweighing her precious frame. He kissed the side of her head, genuinely considering LoTe’s statement, his eyes still fixed on the path ahead.  
“I’m sure, Papa…” Anessimbery mumbled. “I want to learn Arcanio.”  
“It won’t be easy.”  
“I know.”  
“It won’t be fun…”  
“If you’re there it can be fun.”  
“Are you lying just to make me feel better?”  
“Probably.” She shrugged, feeling him bob with a small chuckle. “We can practice at night. Te-Te can teach me in the morning.”  
“Teach…?” LoTe furrowed his eyebrows. “Sweetie, I was joking about the fighting-“  
“No. I wanna learn. I have to learn…” She buried her face in his shoulder. “I have to learn…”  
“Mm…” He allowed his eyes to rest a moment, absorbing the heat from the ground below. It swam around his feet, entering the bottom of his shoes like a conniving serpent, patiently waiting to completely encompass him, making him wildly uncomfortable.  
The sun was beginning to perform the dance of evening, draping herself upon the dunes ahead of them, threatening to slip under. She still bathed the horizon in delicate light, the dust sucking up as much heat as possible before her dance would end in a moment of chilling despair, drowning the land in cool night air. The dust picked up with delicate instances of wind, joining the sun in her tragic dance that would end coldly, forcing the dust to float back onto the unforgiving ground and wait patiently for another dance.  
Anhe felt Anessimbery shift, a tiny sigh from her mouth as she snuggled closer to him. She was quite exhausted after such an…event. He increased his pace, LoTe not far behind. He felt the soft pad of LoTe’s thumb on his, rubbing in ever so delicate circles to reassure him. Or to calm himself. He didn’t allow himself to display such weak emotions like overt sorrow or manic rage, not only in front of Anhe and Anessimbery, but he would never subject even the best of his colleagues to see him in such a state.   
“My love…” Anhe muttered, just quiet enough for the dozing little one to be deaf of. He nodded at their hands, asking LoTe to release for just a moment. Anhe then nodded at Anessimbery, facing towards his love and lifting the little one higher to exchange her to the other Iseiling. She grumbled and wiggled a bit, LoTe taking hold of her.  
“Shh…” He placed a hand on her head. “Don’t wake, don’t wake…”   
She gripped onto to him tight enough he thought that she had suddenly sprouted claws, like that young Tana girl. He gently kissed the side of her head, so’s not to disturb her any further and watched Anhe step towards them, drawing a circle at LoTe’s feet, then walking a bit away from them. LoTe’s instinct was to follow in stride but Anhe held his hand up to gate him from getting any closer.   
Anhe lowered himself to the dust, drawing the same shape around his feet then snapping his body upwards to cause the fragments of dust to rise with his straight arms and legs. Every piece stayed in the air, Anhe flattening his hand to cause them to flatten into tiny shards. LoTe saw him wince a bit when he clenched his fists, rattling the dust in miniscule motions before opening his fists. The particles blasted into LoTe and Anessimbery, the sharp pieces cutting LoTe’s exposed skin then sealing the wounds with more concentrated flesh, pinching him tightly. He guarded his face with one arm, the other holding Anessimbery.   
He opened his eyes and they were home again, Anhe the same distance away, just in the cooking room now. He was breathing quite heavily, his deep brown skin now an unnatural beige, his teeth gritted so tight, they seemed like they were going to shatter. He gazed up at LoTe, his brown eyes glazed over. He fell to his knees and gripped his chest. LoTe placed Anessimbery onto the ground, his shawl wrapping her a bit to keep her comfortable, before running to Anhe’s side.  
“That was too much, Anhe!” He held him by the arms, assisting Anhe up slowly against the wall. “We could’ve walked, you didn’t need to- “  
“Save it!” Anhe coughed into his fist. “Save…it…”   
“Why must you always-!” LoTe shook his head. “You can’t handle the Arcanio like you used to…”  
“I can…”  
“No, you can’t! You expect to teach Anessimbery like this? If you can barely do a transporting spell then how in Hart’s name are you going to-”  
“It was just today!” He coughed again. “Today was…exhausting. I’ve overexerted myself, it was…was because I was trying to save her…  
“Transporting barely takes any Arcanio at all! You’re sick, Anhe.” LoTe growled. “You…you need rest.”  
“You always say that.”  
“Well, I damn well mean it this time, look at you! You’re weaker than ever before, you can barely walk!”  
“I can walk!”   
LoTe released him, watching Anhe slip and fall onto the unforgiving wooden floor. “Then WALK!”   
“LoTe…”  
“Kashan!”  
“Don’t…don’t swear in front of my child…”  
“You’ve gone too far! Too far, now you’ve-you’re killing yourself!”  
“Stop…”  
“You’re not teaching her. You’re too sick-you-you-!” LoTe pulled at his hair, a few of the ebony strands falling to the ground. “You’re sick and a fool!”  
“LoTe.” Anhe attempted to sound stern but LoTe continued with his rampage.  
“Too far! Too-agh-!” He whipped his head around, pulling his hair back then clapping his hands together. He continued to do so until he found himself gesturing the way the Tet do, beyond words with such an intensity that they weren’t necessary. He stomped, and grunted, clapping his hands at Anhe, gesturing towards the sky and Anessimbery slicing the air with a flat hand and shaking his hand.  
“Nah, nah!”  
“Nah…” Anhe sighed. “Who…who will teach her then?”  
“I will teach her fighting. Fighting like the Arau. Not like me.” He shook his head. “Not like me-me-my people…I mean. And I will…find another mage to teach…”  
“Another…”  
“If you die, what will I have?!”  
Anhe’s fingertips brushed the ground, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. The image of LoTe was blurred, his eyes begging for a rest as his brain strained to focus. He could see LoTe was still now, swaying a bit from his fury, but remaining in one place.   
LoTe sighed, leaning over to help Anhe off the ground, muttering Tet curses under his breath as he braced them against the wall. Anhe held tight onto his arm, his heart beating at a manic pace.   
“Papa?”   
LoTe and Anhe both gritted their teeth, eyes drawn to Anessimbery standing with LoTe’s shawl over her shoulders. The fabric was massive enough to swallow her whole, it dragged as she stepped towards them. She wiped her left eye with a tiny fist, a yawn preventing her from asking another question. She closed her sleepy eyes and held her arms up.  
“One…” LoTe sighed. “One moment, little one. Let me get your father to bed…”  
Her eyes snapped open. “Is Papa sick again?”   
“Ah…” LoTe nodded. “Yeh…very sick.”   
“LoTe…” Anhe growled.  
“Schin.” LoTe hissed. “I won’t lie to her.”  
Anhe shut his mouth, gazing down at the ground once again. LoTe lifted him up, swinging his legs over to his right side, cradling him like a baby. Anhe felt embarrassment fill his chest but his body did nothing about it. He was too weak to worry about what Anessimbery thought, when in truth, she just wanted to be picked up like that too.  
LoTe brough Anhe to bed, Anessimbery a few feet behind, sleepily following. She leaned against the door and watched LoTe dab Anhe’s forehead with his sleeve. He kissed him on the cheek then attended to the little one, lifting her up and bringing her towards her room. She shook her head, whining about not wanting to sleep yet. He actively ignored her requests until she started to squeal near his ears.  
“You have to-“  
“No.”  
“No?” He chuckled. “You’re going to be exhausted if we start training tomorrow. I’ll beat you in a second…”  
“No,” She pointed up, gesturing towards the roof.  
“Oh, night suns?”  
“Night suns…”  
“Okay, just for a little while.”  
He carried her outside, tapping the brick four times with his knuckle to reveal a small set of stairs. They scraped against the immovable wall, a noise that sent a shiver up LoTe’s spine. He stepped up, careful to balance and not send them both tumbling into the dust.   
She hugged him tight, tired eyes gazing up at the stars, the tiniest smile forming on her lips. Anhe used to take her up here before he met LoTe. It was somewhere they could escape to, a place where he would talk for hours about things that Anessimbery could barely comprehend. But the low vibrations of his voice were warm, as if the light from the stars could only project heat if he was speaking.   
“Its going to take a long time for your father to get better.”  
“Mmhm.”  
“A long time with no magic.”  
“That means I’ll have to help, right?”  
“No, honae. You can’t heal him. I don’t want any magic near him, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
LoTe sighed, removing her shawl to expose her fluffy hair. He ran his hand through it, rubbing her head as he gazed up at the stars. Her eyes followed and for a moment he felt them staring at the same star. He wanted to see what she saw. She probably saw the gods looking down on her, like she was taught, while all he saw was a reason to continue to burn. He would burn like that star, burn and bring light to the darkness, even if he would eventually go out. But he wasn’t a candle, no, he wouldn’t burn out so quickly, he would burn with the world and swallow the darkness around them.  
“What do you see, Ane?”  
“Pretty…”  
“No, no. What does your heart see?”  
She lifted her head, placing both of her hands on his shoulder and looked him in the face. She tilted her head slightly, her brown eyes pitch black in the dim light. LoTe saw a smile on her face which quickly turned into a giggle.  
“I see you!”  
“Me?”  
“Yes!” She turned her head towards the sky again, pointing. “You…Papa…and me.”  
LoTe stared at the trio of stars she was talking about, his eyes lighting up at the sight. Three powerful balls of unknown material, burning millions of miles away from where they were standing, all managed to find each other. At some point, they all decided to stay.  
“My darling…” He smiled. “That’s precious.”  
They went back inside, LoTe tucking the worn out little one before walking back to the cooking room. He stood and stared at the grey dunes outside, his mind racing a thousand miles per hour and his heart doing its best to keep up. He exhaled, tilting his head to the side, feeling the sore in his muscles.   
“Creation Day…” He sighed. “More like Destruction Day…” He chuckled to himself, stretching the other side of his neck. “Absolute nonsense, that was…”  
He walked over to the fire pit, sitting on one of the handmade round cushions. He rubbed his hand on it, making comfortable circles with his hand in the silky fabric, the sensation of the tiny fibers on his damaged skin calmed him down almost instantly. He plopped his head down on the one just behind it, admiring the scent of the burnt-out fire pit that sneaked into his nostrils every now and then.   
The image of the Tana girl stuck in his mind. The way she smiled, the way she spoke, it all felt so rehearsed. So impersonal. The beauty of Creation Day was to make the Iseilings unafraid of being near one another, being near new people and loosening their hearts from the ache of everyday life. Yet, she continued to wear this façade of formality, her father stripping it as soon as he locked eyes with LoTe. She had a freezing aura, colder than the night air, yet her actions were warm…so very warm. The way she had treated Anessimbery was considerate and she seemed to expose herself a bit.   
“Confusing…” LoTe rolled over, mumbling to himself. He probably would never see that Tana girl again, not until the next Creation Day. He snuggled up to the cushions and allowed his heavy eyelids to escort him to sleep.


	4. The Last

“Ha!” Anessimbery lunged, swiftly getting knocked to the ground by LoTe’s parry. “That isn’t fair, I’m better with a sword!”  
“That is a sword,” He twirled his knives around. “It simply has no blade…”  
“Then why do you have blades?”  
“I know enough to not accidentally stab my father when training.” He pulled his shirt down, exposing a scar on his shoulder.   
“I was young…”  
“You are still young,” He whacked the back of her head with the hilt of his blades. “Get up. Fight. If you stayed down for that long, you would be minced into dinner by now.”  
She grabbed her staff, swinging it towards his feet. LoTe hopped up, easily avoiding it. He heard her growl in anguish, her feet scraping against the dust. He turned with his arms crossed, the blades of his knives facing outward.   
“Take them from me.”  
“Take-?!” Anessimbery chuckled. “Of course. Then I suppose you want me to deliver you to the night suns then, yeh?”  
“Nah, nah.” He stabbed the ground, the hilts facing upwards. “Take them.”   
Anessimbery cautiously stepped forward, keeping her eyes on his every breath as she reached for the left-most knife. Once her fingertips kissed the hilt, LoTe snatched the right-most one out of the ground and kicked her in the chest. Anessimbery managed to grip the blade she was reaching for, falling back with it in her hand. She landed on her back, blocking her face from LoTe’s blade which was just inches away from her nose, teeth gritted with the effort.  
“Good,” LoTe put more weight into his blade. “Now, get out of this.”  
Anessimbery smirked. “Yes, sir.” She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the energy from her veins to enter the ground. The Arcanio shot straight up from the dust, a pillar of rock knocking LoTe into the air. He landed with a savage thud, the dust entrapping him in a suffocating cloud. He let out a wheeze as Anessimbery stood up with a smile on her face.   
“Does that count?” She swung her staff around.   
“Y-Yes, very good…” He coughed, flattening his hand on the ground. “Please be more careful next time, I’m old.”  
“No, you’re not, get up.” She offered a hand. He squinted his eyes at her, refusing to take it.   
“Alright!” She threw down her staff, holding her hands up in surrender.   
LoTe stood up on his own, picking her staff up and whacking her in the stomach with it. She fell with a thud, wheezing and hugging her torso. He shook his head, holstering his blades and dragging the staff against the ground.   
He nudged her with the toe of his boot. “Get up.”  
“Now, now, you two…” LoTe heard tapping against the wood floor of their home. He turned and saw Anhe standing there, leaning against the doorframe. “LoTe, don’t break our daughter…”  
“She tried to break me first.” He stepped forward. “She used that Arcanio praka on me again.”  
“Don’t swear-“  
“It’s not praka!” Anessimbery hopped up. “It’s the Arau way of fighting and you said you’d teach me the Arau way of fighting. I can use a little Arcanio if I want.”  
“Then I can fight the Tet way, huh?”  
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “No, no…”  
Anhe stepped down from the house, inching his way towards them. “He’s teaching you the fundamentals, Ane. Only use magic when it is a true emergency.”  
“With the way she fights, she’ll have a lot of those.” LoTe rolled his eyes.   
“That’s enough, now.” Anhe rubbed LoTe’s arm, smiling and nodding. “Still got it, heh.”  
“Oh, Hart, have mercy on me…” Anessimbery cringed.  
“Now, now, be nice.” Anhe chuckled. “Head inside now, I’ve made your favorite.”  
“Is it actually my favorite or is it Te-Te’s favorite and you’re just baiting me?”  
“You think so much, Ane.” Anhe patted her head. “That’s good. Question everything.”  
“And everyone.” LoTe started towards the house.  
“Yes, precisely. You never know who to trust. Anyway, yes, it is your favorite.”  
“Frur yeh!!”   
“Watch your mouth.” Anhe hissed.  
“Denkingn, Papa!” Anessimbery called as she ran into the house.  
LoTe offered his hand to Anhe, taking his cane. “Will Soyahe be joining us?”   
“No, they’re attending to the Night Market.”  
“She needs her lesson, Anhe…”  
“That’s why I told her only to use it for emergencies.”  
“You know she doesn’t listen.”  
“She won’t hurt you, Lo. Please, have faith in her.”  
“Do you remember what happened the last time I had faith? Half the country nearly died.”   
“That was the gods twisted mistake.”  
“I thought the gods didn’t make mistakes?”  
“I…” Anhe shook his head. “Listen, darling, please. She can have one day of rest.”  
“You’re talking about rest? You shouldn’t even be walking right now, Anhe, and you’re talking to me about rest!”  
Anhe simply chuckled, bringing LoTe’s hand up to his lips and kissing his fingers. “My darling, you know I love it when you worry about me.”  
“Kashan. Stop lying.”   
Anhe smiled, leading them back into the house where Anessimbery had already set the table, bowls in their place and the steaming meal in the center. She was bouncing in her chair as she patiently waited for her fathers to take a seat, a massive grin on her face as the savory aroma entered her nostrils, her mouth drooling in response.  
Anhe took his cane from LoTe. “I’ll fetch us something to drink-“   
“No, no, I’ll get it!” Anessimbery sped out of her seat, three glass bowls floating towards the table, glowing with the magical blue of Arcanio magic.  
“Ane, use your hands that’s why you have them!” LoTe barked.  
“It’s not fast enough!”  
“That girl…” LoTe shook his head.   
“She’s hungry then!” Anhe chuckled. “I’m glad.”  
Anessimbery rushed back to her seat with a bigger glass bowl. It was filled with a magenta liquid, small bits of fresh fruit floating in the mixture. She scooped some with each bowl, placing them next to their respective plates, snatching LoTe’s hand and tilting her head down to pray.  
“Well…ah…” Anhe cleared his throat. “May Hart, Nepe, Tlea, and Ruep permit us longer days, longer nights and longer love for-“  
“-as long as our days are numbered, we may always praise those above the night suns that grace us with their precious light. We are eternally grateful, proshe, proshe, proshe, proshe.”   
“Now, Anessimbery…”   
She ignored him, scooping the food into her dinner bowl then taking a sip of her drink. LoTe’s thick eyebrows lowered as he glared at her with disapproving eyes. Anhe sighed, shaking his head and reaching for his portion as well.   
“Anessimbery, we need to have a word with you.”  
Anessimbery looked up, half the food already stuffed in her gob. “Hm?”  
“You’re not in trouble, darling, it’s just that-“  
“You’re in trouble.” LoTe interrupted.   
“Wha-?” Anessimbery swallowed. “What? What did I do? Was it because I used magic on you and you lost? You told me-“  
“Shush, girl, for Hart’s sake!” LoTe shook his head. “I’m fine with the magic. I’m glad you’ve actually taken after your father with such passion. However, you need to realize how much energy you’re putting into it.”  
Anessimbery frowned, tilting her head to the side, her braid following. She inhaled, preparing to speak then shut her mouth, her eyes scanning LoTe up and down to make sure he didn’t have anything more than those few scratches she had left him with when her Arcanio threw him into the dust.   
“I didn’t break anything, did I?’  
“No, I’m fine. It was just…pretty damn close.”   
“What LoTe is trying to tell you,” Anhe leaned forward. “Is that when you practice with Soyahe, pay more attention when they lecture. They were the first of their people to propose that they actually write the tricks of Arcanio down in more than one book, you know!”  
“But…they’re boring?” She felt her voice raise an octave giving herself away.   
“Then why is it you insist on letting them stay for dinner? They don’t seem very boring to me.”  
“But I hate it when they lecture! It’s all about the past and what we did and what the Arcanio originally was for and I don’t need to know any of that! I’m not in the past, I’m in a future where the Arcanio is a valuable skill and resource that all Iseilings need, right?”  
“If we don’t learn of our past, how can we be sure we won’t repeat those mistakes in the future?”  
“Books! I don’t have to listen to some old Tatur talk on and on about the ‘sacred hole’ or whatever-“  
“The Onset is not a sacred hole, it is a sacred pit, that’s why you need to pay attention.” LoTe sipped his drink.  
“The Onset, I knew that!”  
“What is the origin of its name?”  
“Um…”  
“Exactly.”  
“Just…” Anhe folded his hands in front of him, biting his lip. “You’re very powerful, my darling. Very powerful, dare I say more powerful than me?”  
LoTe raised his eyebrows. “In your current state, I’d have to agree.”   
Anhe nodded. “Yes, yes, I’d say so as well…”  
“That just means I’ll learn faster,” Anessimbery leaned back in her seat, taking a bite of her meal. “I don’t see what the problem is, Papa.”  
“The problem is that you’re getting careless,” LoTe folded his hands, placing his head upon them. “You must control yourself. That is all.”  
“I planned on speaking to Soyahe about it…” Anhe shifted in his chair.  
“No!” Anessimbery barked. “No, you don’t have to talk to them-“  
“Yes, I will write them after dinner.”  
“Papa, no.”  
“You do not speak to me like that, Anessimbery.”  
“Why do you have to talk to them?! They’re going to make me write an entire scripture about the importance of energy distribution and-and make me form equations from the ancient breviary!”  
“That sounds like a lot of work,” LoTe chimed in. “Truly, you’d rather train with me…”  
“TRULY, I would rather train with you, Te-Te! Please make him stop it!”  
“Too bad I’ve been summoned by the council…”  
“What?!”  
Anhe frowned. “You’ve been summoned?”   
“Yes, I told you when we first woke. Or did you forget?”  
“I…” Anhe furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes scanning his meal for any answer. “I seem to…have forgotten.”  
“I’m sure it will be fine. They may just ask me to scout the borders for a few hours then send me home. I hope OnHan is there. That fool always keeps us entertained…”  
“Is that the one who almost cut off his own toe?” Anessimbery rose out of her seat, taking LoTe’s bowl.   
LoTe chuckled, placing his hand on her arm. “We’re not done yet, Ane. Soyahe will come to us in the morning and you will be having a day full of lesson…”  
Anessimbery groaned, no longer seeing the point in arguing. Papa had made his choice, LoTe behind him in a feverous defense, blocking whatever tools Anessimbery pulled out to soften Papa and spare her from the hours of lecture she was going to endure once the sun rose. She took their bowls, refilling Papa’s drink and bringing him a blank scroll to start his letter.   
“Ane,” He stopped her in her tracks. “You know I’m doing this-“  
“Because you love me?”  
“Because I love to be interrupted,” He raised an eyebrow. “Because, yes, I love you and because I want you to be strong. Strong is not the same as reckless.”   
She nodded. “Okay, Papa.” She leaned over, kissing him on the forehead.  
“There are too many fools in the world, too many fools with power. Do not be one of them.”  
“I promise, Papa,” She hit her chest with a flat hand twice. “I won’t be a reckless fool.”  
Anessimbery went into her bedroom, laying her head down on the soft cushion near the window, gazing out at the dunes beyond her, beyond this home. She sighed, placing a single finger on the glass, the sparks of Arcanio crackling against the material. She smiled, drawing her finger down and creating burnt scribbles in her window, drawing the tiny creatures she used to catch as a child. The big eyes, the paws, the round ears and long, bare tails. The long, sharp teeth that could slice right through her hand. When she was satisfied with her masterpiece, she leaned back and watched the stars sparkle, trapped in the blanket of the universe.   
Her eyes ached, heavy with the day’s work. She thought of LoTe, dusting off his scouting garments to visit the Council. It had been months since the last time he had to leave, and that time was for what felt like endless days. When he returned, he was more affected by Anessimbery’s actions, becoming stricter on her when they trained and harsh when she utilized magic.   
She felt a pit in her stomach.  
There was nothing good that came from the Council, now that she allowed herself to think. She had only seen them once a year, watching them from afar ever since her breaking ceremony, unsure if she should linger near such important figures. She came to realize that they did nothing for the Iseilings, the most they did was approve national events, no issues were spoken during Creation Day. She wasn’t even sure if they were proper allies. She was taught that all the tribes were connected and must remain that way to properly thrive, but how did they stay connected?  
Trade?  
Love?  
Out of respect of ancient customs?   
For all she knew, every tribe could have an issue with one another. They would have to, Papa and LoTe fight all the time, they couldn’t agree on everything or be fine with whatever the other does. But they communicate with one another, it may result in different issues, but those can be addressed easily.   
But besides Anhe and LoTe, what does any other Arau know of the Tet culture?   
What do the Tana know about the Tatur?  
She shook her head, removing one of her books from her shelf, flipping to a page. She stared at the map of Isei, her mind racing with the names of the cities she had never been to, the lands she had never explored, all filled with people she had never seen.   
“Papa!” Anessimbery ran out of her room, her feet slapping against the floor. “Te-Te, Papa, I have a question-“ Her eyes widened as she gazed at the two of them standing in front of the doorway, Papa’s cane leaned against the wall so whoever was on the other side couldn’t see.  
She cautiously stepped forward, careful to not make a sound. Through the gaps of her father’s legs, she saw black boots with a golden symbol etched on the toe, glimmering in the light of their home. She recognized it as Tanain, their height confirming her assumption: These were Filedine’s guards, the ones that escorted his daughter, Syrreth, throughout the land. You could never see her through the tall guards, but the clacking of her shoes was all you needed.   
“I understand,” Anhe nodded. “I will be there.”  
“He won’t be able to stay long,” LoTe interrupted. “He is still quite ill.”  
“Do you know of another Arau mage that can fulfill this task?” The guards voice was a high-pitched hiss, one that sent a shiver up Anessimbery’s spine.  
LoTe shook his head, his fingers unconsciously reaching for Anhe’s.  
“Then it is settled. We will see you before the sun rises.” The guards stomped their feet once, LoTe nodding in agreement before they exited, the door slowly closing behind them.  
Anessimbery squeezed her eyes tight, forcing Arcanio through the floor of the house, into the dust then up to the surface where she could hear the guard’s footsteps away from the home. When she was sure they were gone, she took a sharp inhale, fear filling her chest as her mind raced with what the guards could’ve possibly wanted this late in the night.  
They turned at the same time, Anhe freezing in place when he saw Anessimbery. His eyes read a thousand unnecessary apologies, the words that would exit his mouth would be completely worthless to her in this moment. She would want a detailed explanation, she wouldn’t ignore it like she used to. LoTe continued to walk, passing her then going to the shelf for a scroll. She shakes her head, her mouth agape as he opens it, barely even acknowledging her presence.   
Anhe stepped forward, forcing through the glass wall of guilt. “Anessimbery…”  
“Why were they here?!”  
“Darling, please-”  
“No! Tell me, why were they here? What are they going to make you do?  
LoTe scoffed. “Calm yourself, Ane. They want a mage to assist the scouts in monitoring the borders.”  
“Those were Tana, why would the Tana want you to help them?”  
“That is what we do, yashan. We help our fellow tribes in time of need.”  
“Those were Filedine’s, weren’t they?”  
Anhe said nothing, he merely gazed down at her, trying to conceal the hard swallowing of disgrace. She didn’t remove her eyes from his, staring him down with tense limbs and gritted teeth. She knew better than anyone how to get him to break.  
LoTe placed the scroll flat on the table. “If they were, is that an issue?”  
“Yes, it’s an issue! When was the last time he did anything for our people, let alone his own! Why would he be monitoring our borders? Why is he suddenly deciding to do his job?”  
“Watch your tone-“  
“He isn’t here! I don’t care! Rarmankil has barely left his home, yet he’s done more for us than him! He barely blinks in our direction.”  
“Not all Tana are conniving, Anessimbery.”  
“I-!” She shook her head in disbelief, stepping up to LoTe without fear. “How dare you?!”  
He pressed two fingers to her chest, pushing her back. “You had one bad experience with them. One. They do nothing to harm your people, my people or the Tatur.”  
“They do nothing regardless. Neither do you.”  
LoTe’s eyes widened. “Why are you taking this out on me?”  
“I’m not! Or should I? You’re the first to tell Papa to sit down. You’re the first to tell Papa to rest, yet you’re perfectly fine with the Tana marching in here, telling us about our borders when they are across the water?! When they are nowhere near Arau on any part of the planet?!”  
“I did not say I was fine with it!”  
“Then why didn’t you say no?!”   
“That is not my place. I must follow the orders of the Council, no matter which member drags me by the hair.”  
Anessimbery turned back to Anhe, hissing. “Do you have something to prove?”  
“Do you have something to prove Anessimbery?!” He barked at her, causing her to retreat. “You don’t even know what is going on! You barely saw those Tana, yet you’re so sure they want to cause us harm?”  
“This isn’t about them!”  
“This isn’t about you!” He gripped the head of his cane.  
Anessimbery’s eyes widened. The tingling sensation of disbelief swam through the sinews in her muscles, her blood going cold as her heart tensed at the resonating sound of his words. She watched him grimace, his face contorting in a way that was never directed towards her.   
“It…” She clenched her fists. “It is…if it’s my tribe. It is if it’s my family, you’re going to die out there!”  
Anhe kept his head high, his eyes fixed on his daughter’s. “It is a risk I’m willing to take, yashan…”  
“No. NO-“ She gripped her hair, whimpering and fighting the tears behind her eyes. “You’re too sick…if whatever is out there doesn’t hurt you, the energy you put in to stop it will kill you, don’t you understand?! You’ll die, you’ll be gone! Forever! Then what?!”  
“You do not tell me what I understand. If I die, then you will move on. It’s what you must do, Ane.” He inhaled shakily. “But I know what I am doing. I know you’re scared, but I can control my energy levels enough to get me home.”  
“What if it doesn’t stop?”  
“That is what can’t happen…”  
“Why you? There are other mages, other strong, capable, natural-!” She bit her words, her heart warming a bit. She relaxed herself, lowering her hand as she stared into the eyes of her father, long enough to see her own reflection: Her brown and blond locks, curly and wild, her sharp jaw, working eyes and developing arm muscles.  
She stepped back, holding her hands to her chest, squeezing them tight until they began to glow with the blue of Arcanio. She opened them, staring at her own hands then directing them back up at Anhe. He was shaking his head.  
“Me…”  
“No.”  
“Papa, I can do it. I can help LoTe at the borders, you won’t have to leave the house-“  
“Ane, no!” Anhe walked towards her, throwing down his cane and gripping her arms. “Of all the idiotic things that come from your mouth, this is the worst! You can barely control your mouth, you think you can control your Arcanio that well?! Have you lost yourself completely?!”  
“But-but I know-“  
“You don’t know anything about high Arcanio, Anessimbery. You haven’t even seen it and you want to attempt it? At this age?”  
“All the better to start early!”   
“Do you know why I’m this way? Why I am sick like this?!”  
“You-“  
“Do you?!”  
“You used Arcanio…without being a natural…” She shook her head quickly. “B-But I’m a natural-!”  
“Kiim! Nah, Nah!” He released her arms, staggering back with his hands on his head, an unnatural laugh scraping out of his throat. “I’m this way because I had to learn to protect you. I have spent years learning the ways of the Arcanio so that no one would hurt you ever again! I’ve risked my health, my position as a High Mage -! And now, you want to go and lose your life? What will all this be worth? What will I be worth?!”  
Anessimbery swallowed hard. She stared at the floor in silence, tears threatening her once again as she stared at her father in shock. She shook her head and hugged her arms, feeling the warmth of where he had gripped her to knock her off the high dune she was proudly standing on.   
Anhe was breathing heavy, panting and sweating as the fear drove him. She barely spoke to anyone, let alone the Council members and now he knew how she felt about half of them. He allowed her to ride that Bol until its legs gave out, following her as she stood on it’s back, Anhe was always prepared to catch her. But they knew nothing about what was out there. It was awful enough to summon a distant tribe to his door, it was awful enough to keep Anessimbery inside.   
“Go to bed…prepare for your lesson with Soyahe when you wake…” LoTe rubbed her shoulder before leading Anhe to a chair.   
“Don’t think foolishly…” He sank into his seat. “I didn’t raise a reckless fool…”  
Anessimbery ignored him, disappearing into her room and hugging her knees close to her chest. She stared at the wall, doing her best to ignore the melancholy overcast in her muscles as she sank into the soft fantasy that was her bed. She stared blankly at the plain sheets, her mind buzzing with a numbness she’s never felt before. She wished the buzzing through her sinews came from another’s mouth, another’s words, not her father’s. He was all she seemed to have now, he was the only one she could discuss magic with besides her teacher and even then Soyahe would find a way to transform it into a lesson. She truly loved the art of Arcanio and Papa was all she had to share that love with. She knew there were some who despised it, some who wished their children were never born with such a power and some who try to make sure no one is ever born with it. And she knew LoTe was one of them.  
Papa was her solace, her only outlet for this love. She felt his faith in her when she went over her lessons with him, his eyes shining with such pride and belief that she could change the world with her power.  
Yet he didn’t hesitate to crush that belief. He didn’t hesitate to stop her before she had even begun. The fiery fuel of resentment began to fill her chest, replacing the unsettling weight with an airy determination. She clenched her jaw, picking up the blanket at the end of her bed and slammed herself down on her side, bouncing up a bit from the bed’s retaliation.   
“Anhe…” LoTe hissed. “You could’ve handled that better.”  
“You were ready to pull out a blade at any point…”  
“Not that one.” LoTe shook his head. “And you’ve worn yourself out already…”  
“Well what did you expect?” He caught LoTe’s eyes, his fury extinguishing through LoTe’s glare.  
“Do you want me to drop you?”  
“Nah, nah…” Anhe grumbled.   
LoTe rolled his eyes, helping Anhe out of his chair and leading him back to their bedroom. The guards barging into their home was bothersome enough but now he had to deal with an ill partner and a brooding adolescent all in the same night. It was ridiculous. He rubbed Anhe’s back, his hand sliding down to his hip to keep him close as they slowly made their way to bed.   
“At this rate, I might as well carry you.” LoTe teased, doing his best to lighten the mood.  
Anhe didn’t respond, he merely sighed, his eyes focused on the path ahead of him. LoTe cleared his throat, annoyed. He opened the door and gestured to the soft, grey fur bed, Anhe shuffling his way towards it. Once he sat on the edge, LoTe helped remove his shoes then lifted his legs before settling into bed himself.   
He lay next to his partner, he knew there would barely be any rest tonight. Anhe could get enough for the both of them, he needed it more than LoTe, admittedly. Today was too much for him. LoTe’s eyes darted towards him as he shifted a bit, doing his best to settle into the warmth of the blanket, hoping it would melt the worries away. LoTe turned over, wrapping his arms around Anhe’s torso, his hands hesitating as they hovered over the surprisingly cold skin. He pulled Anhe close, burying his face in his hair.   
He heard Anhe laugh. “Your heart is still young, Lo…”  
“With you, I feel as if I’ll never grow old.”   
“Oh, kiim.” Anhe sighed. “Was I too harsh?”  
“Yes.”  
“That wasn’t the answer I was expecting.”  
“I’m only telling the truth, dearest. I don’t lie.”  
“That’s a load of praka and you know it.”  
“I know. I was lying.”  
Anhe didn’t speak for a moment, shook his head then smiled. “You live to torment me.”  
“I do, go to sleep.” He kissed the back of Anhe’s neck.   
Despite the sweet warmth surrounding him, LoTe couldn’t help but feel a bitterness in his heart. Anessimbery had a point; there was no need for Filedine’s guards. They could’ve sent a message or one of the hundreds of locals in Iana to inform them in person.   
LoTe felt a shiver go up his spine. He could never properly imagine Filedine’s face anymore, whenever he saw it, he saw the freezing smile of his daughter. He hadn’t seen her for years, yet he felt he discovered new scathing details that made her even more looming. Filedine never hesitated to speak of her, especially concerning the Arcanio. As much as LoTe despised the magic, he stood and listened, trying to locate any moment to boast about his own daughter.   
So far, he knew that Syrreth can easily control her full form now, unlike the dreaded breaking ceremony. She was thoroughly invested in the history of the Arcanio and even dared to try creating her own spells for it. LoTe growled, she was just spoiled at this point, Filedine was most likely stretching the truth to make her look better, for she was going to lead once his mouth stops moving for eternity.   
“Hart, stop…” He grumbled, doing his best to sink into the bed and sink into a proper slumber, just to end the thoughts of the Tana leadership. They were at the top of the game so far, the Tet slinking in close to them. The only advantage they had were accessible resources, but the Tet created tools to properly harvest and contain them.   
Maybe LoTe should bring Anhe and Anessimbery to his home village in Enceres. They wouldn’t be so close to the issues the Tana bring up with the Arau and they’d be able to thrive. Maybe Anessimbery would stop blabbering about the Arcanio. Maybe she would drop it and become an apprentice of metals instead of magic.   
But that wouldn’t make her happy…  
Would it?  
He should take her on a day trip to a metal shop sometime soon. After this nonsense with the borders is over, of course and when she forgives Anhe for yelling at her. They could take Soyahe as well. He always liked that foolish teacher, they were full of joy, as if the very rays of the sun were sewn into every word they spoke.   
LoTe nodded to himself, demanding these pleasant thoughts to soothe him to sleep. Maybe tomorrow won’t happen. Maybe they’ll all just sleep in their warm beds and fill the entire day with dreaming.


	5. Long Live our Reckless Souls

“I don’t know what I expected but I’m thoroughly thrilled!” Soyahe searched through their scrolls, excitedly handing each one to Anessimbery. “I knew you were the perfect student the moment I saw your baby hands!”  
Anessimbery squinted her eyes, trying desperately to not set the parchment on fire. Soyahe removed a scroll from her hand, skimmed through it, then placed it back on the pile in her arms. They paced back to the desk, rapidly gesturing for Anessimbery to follow as the reached in one of their many bags on their thick belt, various jewels dropping to the floor as they rummaged.   
“Oops, pardon me!” Their ears twitched, nostrils flaring as they tried to gather their thoughts. “I…need…this!” They snatched up a black jewel off the ground, placing it in the center of the table, placing their hand on their chin to contemplate their next move.  
“Maybe…” Anessimbery placed the scrolls down on a cushion. “Tell me what the lesson for the day is first, yes?”  
“Yes, of course! Your father called, we’re talking about Arcanio distribution through the energetic flow of Araunian magic!”  
Anessimbery knit her eyebrows, her top lip twitching from irritation. She wanted to ask if that was all they were doing today, based on Soyahe’s own energy levels, they seemed to be in too good a mood to just leave it at that. But she knew if she asked, they would go into a whole rant about the history of Isei, how the gods graced them with magic and all that other excitingly mundane information that’s been drilled into Anessimbery’s head since she could walk…  
“I was planning on teaching you the art of glass-making, essential for any aspiring mage, by the by, but your father seemed so very disappointed in you that I’ve filled the day with training!”  
Anessimbery’s eyes lit up. “Training? No lectures?”  
“Lectures?” Soyahe laughed. “What is there to lecture on controlling energy? Even a child is capable of grasping the core concepts, just look at how much they run around then crash and burn in their little baskets!”   
“What are the scrolls for, then?”  
“Hm,” Soyahe stared at the pile of parchment, their eyes seeming to read every fiber within its material before they reached forward and took one from the bottom of the pile. They opened it and nodded, tossing it back in the pile, snapping their fingers and setting it all ablaze.   
Anessimbery shrieked at the sudden flames in her home. “What are you doing?! Are you crazy?!”  
“Yes, we’ve been over this.” Soyahe flattened their hand, a single slice through the air putting out the fire in a matter of seconds. They stepped over to the ash and pulled out a clear diamond shimmering as the black particles descended from its surface.   
They dropped into Anessimbery’s hand. “Let’s begin with a basic energy: Fire. It is essential in every aspect, we need it for warmth, to cook food, to burn the letters of past lovers, you understand.”  
“Ah…yes?”  
Soyahe strutted past her, the soft scrape of their claws on the floor kept Anessimbery’s eyes on them as they slipped out the door and into the blazing sun, raising their arms in victory. Anessimbery examined the sky, her face soaking in the warmth from the sun’s rays.  
“Millions of miles from us is a fire that can never be put out by the likes of you and me. But what does it share? What does it run on?”  
“Chaos…” Anessimbery whispered.  
“CHAOS!” Soyahe screamed. “Chaos and energy are beautiful twins that were birthed from the UNIVERSE! They are the siblings of fire! Make fire, apprentice!”  
“Make fire?”  
“Yes, you’re full of rage, make fire!”  
“I’m not full of rage!” Anessimbery barked, tensing up.  
“That’s the spirit!” Soyahe laughed. “Now, focus on what has caused such chaotic energy in your heart, what’s made you the most vengeful in the days we haven’t seen each other, ah?”  
Anessimbery clenched her fists, her jaw locking in an abrasive position as the night’s dreadful exchange seemed to have resurfaced. She didn’t say a word, yet Soyahe read her like she was one of the burning scrolls. She sat in the dust with a thud, her fingertips hovering just over the beige and tan ground, sparks flying from their nerves. Her mind shook at the thought of those words again, the harsh words that came from her father, the sparks below her becoming more threatening as the words replayed over and over again in her head.  
“This isn’t about you!”  
“You can barely control your mouth, you think you can control your Arcanio that well?!”  
“I didn’t raise a reckless fool.”   
Soyahe yelped, hopping back on their haunches as flames engulfed the area surrounding Anessimbery. They tip-toed around the fire, peaking in the flames to see her sitting there, her eyes glowing white with the presence of Arcanio. Her teeth were bared, her fists clenched as she leaned over, the flames only rising higher and brighter.  
“Ane! This was not in the lesson plan!” They took a hand fan from their tool belt and began to fan it, the flames reciprocating with a roar. “Oh, I’m the fool.” They step back, arms spread wide as they inhaled as much as they could before exhaling a massive spring from their mouth, the water blasting through the flames and smacking Anessimbery out of her trance. She screamed as the water assaulted her, her hands desperately trying to guard her face.   
Soyahe stopped when the entirety of the fire was extinguished. They walked up to a soaking Anessimbery, leaning over her to give her the signature disapproving head shake. She held up her finger to speak but was shut down by a sudden gust of wind, her ears whistling at the sudden force.   
“All dry! Now,” Soyahe wiped off their hands. “Let’s try that again, using only a pinch of chaos!”  
“A pinch…” Anessimbery’s breath was heavy. “Just a pinch…” She held her hand up to her face, pinching the air with her thumb and first finger.   
“Now…a tid bit of anger…”   
Anessimbery stared at the space between her fingers, the dancing dust in her line of sight. She concentrated on setting the particles on fire, calling into the deepest recesses of her soul for a miniscule amount of energy. Her heart was hammering. She still felt the cold sensation of rage ruminating in her heart. She wanted to melt this anger away but no matter how many times she shook to clear her mind, she couldn’t seem to grasp a small enough amount.  
She smacked her face, hopping up and down to waste some excess energy, then sat back in the dust. Come on, I know this. I’m not a fool, I’m not a novice…   
She grimaced. “I am not a novice.”   
“No, you’re not!” Soyahe positively assured. She heard them plop down in front of her, the dust tickling her nose. They reached for her free hand, the other remaining in the pinching position.   
She expected them to say more, as they always do. She expected them to find a way to throw in a lesson. But they just sat. She could feel a smile on their face and when she opened her eyes, and saw she was right. The emeralds in their head shined playfully in the light as they patiently waited for her. Anessimbery sighed, putting her hands down on her lap, her head hanging.  
“I can’t.”  
“Shut up, stupid, yes, you can! Watch.” They held their fingers in the same position, a small flame popping up from their thumb pad. “Don’t think so hard. Just feel. What irritates you?”  
“Lectures.” Anessimbery said almost immediately.   
They snickered, their button nose scrunching up a bit. “Okay, what about lectures?”  
“Just talking at me for hours on end without any of my input except for questions.” She rolled her eyes, a smile forming on her face. “I never have any questions, Soyahe. I reread all the same words in the scrolls in the night anyway!”   
“What? You don’t like the sound of my voice?”  
Anessimbery’s eyes widened. “N-no! No, that’s not it at all! I just don’t like to learn about thousands of years’ worth of history through word of mouth! It is much more valuable on paper.”  
“You know, we didn’t always have paper.”  
“You’re not that old.” She furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes scanning the ground. “Wait, are you?”  
Soyahe threw their head back in laughter, a mischievous cackle escaping their throat. Anessimbery felt a sudden heat in her cheeks. She smiled, laughing nervously as Soyahe slammed their hands on their legs, coughing through the dust that had picked up from their sudden movements, a series of whoops and shrieks that only made Anessimbery’s cheeks warmer.   
When Soyahe was done, they leaned over, one arm over their knee, a smirk on their face. They locked eyes with Anessimbery, their demeanor only becoming more relaxed as this uncomfortable silence ensued. It was only broken when Soyahe finally said:  
“Well…look at that.”   
Anessimbery raised an eyebrow and looked down, her hands now engulfed in blue flame. She held them up, forcing a half smile to display the false confidence she had in herself. While her mind was merely screaming: Oh Hart, my hands are on fire, what do I do, my hands are on fire, I have to put it out before it starts to hurt, my hands are on fire, but it’s blue fire, it’s not regular fire, it doesn’t hurt yet, oh my Hart, my hands are on fire-   
“It isn’t exactly what I was hoping for, but it’s a lot better!” They reached for her hands, but she immediately pulled back. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt! Is it hurting you?”  
Anessimbery shook her head. “But what if it’s one of those spells that can’t hurt the user but ca-“  
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Soyahe held a finger close to her lips. “No.”   
She raised an eyebrow. “N-no?”  
“Minus points, that’s the wrong answer, my dearest!” They stood up, burning a circle into where their ass once was, raising their hand to summon a tome. They flipped to a colorful page and dropped it in front of Anessimbery.  
“A magic user can easily harm others by summoning fire, but the blue flames are harmless, ironically. However, if blue flames are summoned by spell or potion,” They leaned in to prove their point. “it is an unrelenting substance that cannot be put out by typical means. You need a relaxant potion for that.” They slammed the book shut.   
“Oh…” Anessimbery looked at her hands still blazing.  
Soyahe tilted their head. “You seem a tad distracted. Is there something occupying your mind space or are you already tired from our one training session?”  
“Nah, nah. I’m worried about my Papa.”  
“Worried? For what?”  
“He was suddenly summoned at the borders, he and Te-Te. Filedine’s guards came last night-“  
“Repulsive!” They kicked up one foot, holding it in the air. “Absolute nonsense garbage, how dare they!”  
“That’s what I said,” She stood up. “But then Papa yelled at me for offering to go instead of him. They said they needed a mage, not him.”  
“Well were you there the whole time? Do you know what they said specifically?”   
“I came downstairs when they were just leaving-“  
Soyahe hopped up, holding their finger to her lips again. “You don’t know what they said then. They may have asked for Anhe specifically!”  
“But he’s still too sick regardless of whether or not they asked for him! And I’m a stronger mage because-“  
“You’re natural?”  
Anessimbery bit her tongue. Soyahe believed that everyone could be taught magic, regardless if they were natural or not. They knew the dangers of Arcanio around unnatural users, but if taught correctly, anyone could do it. It was merely a skill to use Arcanio, some were just blessed with it in their veins, making the skill much easier to obtain and master. Unnatural users would take longer, unless they were taught the ways since the moment they could speak.   
Which wasn’t entirely wrong. Anessimbery did have faith that unnatural users could master the Arcanio, her father came damn close, but the risk. The risk wasn’t worth it in her eyes. If Arcanio was simply another skill that Iseilings could master, why try to barter with Hart to see how long you’ll last with it?   
“I think that those who are natural have a lower risk of coming face to face with Hart, Soyahe. I’m only trying to repay him for all these years…”  
Soyahe nodded, patting her back. “I don’t understand, but that’s fine!” They led her towards the house, the door creaking open.  
“Well, you know. Being a father is hard work, isn’t it?”  
“I wouldn’t know, I’m not a father.” They sat on the dinner room chair, stretching and cracking their arms.   
Anessimbery sighed, taking a seat as well. They sat in silence for most of the time, the natural noises of the home leaving her quite anxious. She shifted, watching Soyahe play with a basic fiddling spell, tiny sparks and glittering particles bouncing from the pads of their hands and fingers. She imitated their movements, hovering one hand over the other, churning the air calmly…slowly.   
Nothing of interest.  
She wiggled out of her stiff position, sitting up like Soyahe, crossing her legs on the chair and hunching over a bit. She repeated this motion, staring deeply into the gap between her hands.   
Nothing.  
She threw down her hands, leaning back against the chair. Bold of her to assume Soyahe would play with a spell so simple their student could pick it up in a moment. They were practically a master of Arcanio.   
She rubbed her fingers together and stared at the ceiling, allowing her arms off the chair. She counted the multicolored panels, wondering why Papa had chosen such ugly colors: yellow, blue, purple and red. They didn’t quite compliment or clash, they were just. Bad. She snickered a bit, remembering trapping LoTe on the ugly panels. Her head shook, and lip twitched, each part of her body seemed to be disgusted with the…bold choices.   
“Get off my table.” A gravelly voice echoed throughout the home.   
Soyahe yelped and hopped up, landing on their feet and bouncing a bit as they gazed in LoTe’s direction. Anessimbery turned to them, LoTe helping Anhe up the step. He didn’t look very well, like the exhaustion over the past few days had caught up to him in a drastic manner; his eyes were rounded with deep purple bags, his skin a startling pale, his legs shaking under him as he attempted to stand. He looked as if he would collapse at any moment.   
“Papa-!” Anessimbery ran over, helping LoTe support him until they reached a resting place.   
Anhe groaned in pain, his head lying on the soft, silken cushions. Anessimbery frantically looked around, her feet pacing her back and forth between him and the cooking room. LoTe stood over him, a protective force that would block anything that would get in his way.   
Soyahe leaned over. “What happened…?”   
LoTe opened his mouth, words tumbling out like the dust on a windy day, his lips an open gate of broken whispers: “There…there was…” His mouth hung open, his head shaking from side to side.  
Side to side.   
Side to side.  
The shining amber within his skull fixated in Anhe’s direction but they never seemed to land on his ill-ridden body. Soyahe could see the fear behind LoTe’s eyes, the fear of what would happen if his eyes had landed on Anhe when they asked about what caused him to become this sick. LoTe’s blades were still unsheathed, both in his left hand, the right free from helping Anhe into the home a few moments ago. He pursed his lips, blocking anymore nonsensical noises from leaving his body. Turning his head to the side, purposefully this time, his ebony hair became a wall that had compromised Soyahe’s view of his tired face.   
They did not ask again.  
Soyahe walked up to the pacing Anessimbery. They stopped her in her tracks, her body frantic and desperate to move, hands waving up and down near her torso as if that would assist her in seeing a clear picture of the problem. She rested them at her head but Soyahe took them, delicately holding the hands they had known for such a long time. Hands that they had molded from nothing, hands that would hopefully becomes something.   
“Konshanai, Ane, konshanai. Stay calm…”  
“No-!” Ane’s voice was strained as she pulled her hands away. “He-what if he-no, no…” Her eyes grew wide, Soyahe observing her rapid calculations. “I-I have to heal him-“  
“NO!” LoTe barked, a startling boom that echoed through the walls, ricocheting out of each room.   
Anessimbery was taken aback, her lips parted, panicked breaths escaping from the slit. Her eyes were trembling with the begging question ‘why?’  
“None of that…” His voice fell into a whisper for a moment, then leapt right back up into the aggravated blasts. “None of that near him! Keep that away-keep it ALL away! Don’t you understand?!” He stepped over, guarding Anhe and blocking his body so neither of them could see. “No…none of that…”  
Soyahe held Anessimbery’s arms, startled from LoTe’s shouting. They inhaled calmly, closing their eyes for a mere moment to recollect their thoughts. LoTe has never acted like this, then again, Anhe has never been so close to death. They could feel his energy, it was weaker than it has ever been. Even when he was fighting for his daughter, using every trick he had learned in Arcanio, there was still a lingering of potential energy. But now it had been sapped out, ripped off him like a scarf that still wanted to hang on, not realizing it was choking him in the process.   
“Why…?” Their voice was a mere whisper, quiet enough to keep both LoTe and Anhe relaxed.  
LoTe swallowed hard, his eyes trying to find a place to land. They reached Soyahe’s, the panic behind his eyes seeming to fade as if he realized this was a safe space. This was home.  
“I…I dunno…” His hands began to shake. “I dunno what it…what its called but…it got ‘im…”  
Soyahe took a step forward but LoTe held up the hand with the blades, the shining tip aimed between Soyahe’s eyes.  
“Don’t.” He muttered. “Stay…back…”  
Soyahe didn’t move. They nodded, folding their hands in front of them and remaining as calm as possible, hoping Anessimbery would mimic them and not her frightful father.   
“What did it look like?”  
“Look…?” LoTe looked down again, lowering his weapons a bit. “It looked…like…smoke…smoke…black smoke…”   
“Black smoke…”  
“Black…smoke-!” LoTe gasped, his blades dropping to the floor, awfully close to his feet, sticking straight up in the wood. “Black smoke, it was black smoke! The smoke like…like…like-“ He swallowed, avoiding a voice crack. “Like…” He gazed up at Anessimbery. “Your breaking ceremony.”  
“Nah, nah!” Anessimbery immediately went on the defensive. “That can’t be! Papa fought that thing and didn’t get hurt! It even touched him, you know that! You touched it!”  
“Your papa never told you because he knew you’d be upset! That thing was made of a mixture of Arcanio, Desert Dwelling blood and…” He gritted his teeth. “Pselus.”  
Anessimbery stepped back, hands on her chest.   
Pselus. This was a dark magic.  
Pselus. This was the waste left over.  
Pselus. This was Arcanio’s sister. Both are so potent in raw, trans-dimensional energy that they are both a danger to Iseilings. Arcanio, however, can be controlled. It is a resource Iseilings have used for centuries, so much so, it adapted to their physical beings, evolving beyond its toxic elements and joining flesh beings in a beautiful dance of symbiotic matrimony. It grew from being with the Iseilings.  
But Pselus couldn’t. It was Arcanio but it became corrupt by fascinated Iseilings, the fleshlings that played too much with nature’s way made a thick, dangerous substance, one that could poison an Iseiling who had no natural magic within their body. No one knows exactly how much Arcanio is left in Pselus because it became its own problem, earning a spot in the don’t-touch-this-ever list that Arcanio trainers make for their students.   
It eats fleshlings from the inside out. Arcanio only does it to unnatural magic users, but Pselus rips innards outwards, it makes you cry blood, it disintegrates the very crystals Arcanio is contained in. That’s only with a large amount, a small dosage of Pselus can corrupt the mind into paranoia, hostility and inexplicable rage.   
“That’s…” Soyahe reeled back, their eyebrows furrowed. “That’s absolutely absurd! The Pselus around this area has been contained. I’m the one who contained it for Nepe’s sake! It couldn’t have reached borders in the center of the landmass!”  
“It managed to…”  
“Well, it SHOULDN’T. You’re telling me that there is Pselus at Iana’s borders and it just poisoned one of our most important mages outside of the city?”  
“Yes…” LoTe swayed a bit. “That is exactly what I’m telling you…”  
Soyahe scoffed and shook their head. “No! We had it contained! There is no possible way that it breached this far without help-“ Their eyes widened. “LoTe…”  
“Soyahe….”  
“All of it…is contained isn’t it?”  
His face was blank, no response to be found.  
“LoTe…”  
“I don’t…I don’t know…”  
“Shouldn’t you know that?!” Anessimbery butted in. “Since you were in charge of it, since you know very well that it should be contained.”  
Soyahe turned to Anessimbery, nose to nose. “I’ve been training natural Arcanio users for the past two years, do you think I had the time to go down to the Barelands to make certain the trained guard hadn’t broken something?”  
“They weren’t…upset.”  
Soyahe’s eyes hopped back to LoTe. “Who?”  
“The guard. They weren’t upset. They weren’t even afraid.”  
“What were they doing?!”  
“They were staring…just staring. Watching…” He swallowed hard. “Watching Anhe work. But as soon as the…Arcanio touched the Pselus, it became unruly and attacked him. The scouts-!” He gritted his teeth, eyes burning into the floor. “The scouts couldn’t do anything! We were…we…it…”   
“LoTe, calm yourself…” Soyahe approached him, their hands offering a space for him to confide in.  
“I-!” His hands were trembling, his eyes mirror the recollection of horror that had taken over the love of his life. “I dunno…I can’t…’m sorry, I dunno how to…to say without…” He covered his face with one hand, a sharp inhale resonating with the sound of a voice crack.  
Anessimbery stepped over cautiously, placing her hands on his arms before pulling him into an embrace, as much as her arms would allow. He pulled her as close as he could to her, making sure there was barely any space between them, unable to stop his tears from falling as his hands pressed against her head. Her curly hair was soft and comforting, bringing him back to when she was little, bouncing in the dust, trying to catch the measly vermin that dwelled behind the house. She would ride on his back, play with his hair and run from his wiggly hands that threatened to tickle her sides.   
He was her rock, yet here he is, sobbing into her shoulder. She kissed the side of his head like he did when she was young and sleepy, her eyes closing as they gazed at the stars. A sudden weight filled her chest, regret and guilt flooding her heart like an empty bucket taking on a massive wave. She wanted to make them proud, be exactly what they wanted her to be and more. Then why did she rebel? Why did she roll her eyes and ignore their requests? What was her benefit to taking advantage of their patience? She swallowed hard, exhaling slowly as tears dripped down her face. She was going to lose her papa and that was it.   
There was nothing she could do about it.  
“An..e…”   
“Papa-!” Anessimbery released LoTe, crawling over to her bed-ridden father. “What is it? What happened?”  
He gazed at her with glazed eyes, slowly blinking as his muddled mind did its best to make out the image of his precious daughter. He could barely raise his hand as he went to touch her face, admiring the texture of the skin on her cheek. A pained smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, burning breaths escaping through his lips.   
“My yashan…” His eyes twitched a bit. “Why must you torment me…?”  
“I-!” She squeaked, pursing her lips to prevent that noise from coming out of her again. She inhaled shakily, bowing her head to him. “I’m sorry, Papa…”  
“I…want no words…”  
“No…?”  
“Shh…” His eyes didn’t leave her face. “Nah, nah…be delicate with your heart. Do not give it…to fools like you.”  
She shook her head, tears cascading down her face as she restrained every muscle that cried out in apology. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want to disobey. She sat in the silence, her fingertips burning from scratching at the floor.  
“Listen…to the gods. I will be with them…” His breath was shallow. “I…will…watch you and if you…you fail me, I will seal your fate.”  
Her body went cold, her hands the only ones in movement, scratching faster at the floor to break through and hide underground. She whimpered, sobbing behind her curls to mask her shameful face. She felt his draining brown eyes dig into her one final time, branding her for life with her mistakes, her skin sizzling with each letter. She squeezed her fists tight, ignoring the blood dripping from her palms as her nails dug deeper into her skin.  
The sound of heavy boots didn’t stir her. She heard LoTe quietly mumble near her dying father, her breath becoming shallow the more moments they took. She wanted rage to fill her heart, she wanted to be angry with him for using those words as his last. He spoke not a word to LoTe, she didn’t hear his voice. Yet, he spent his carefully chosen last moments to remind her of what she had done, knowing it would be the last thing he would ever say to her.   
She wanted to scream.  
LoTe did so for her, an agonizing cry echoing throughout the house as they came to realize that Anhe was gone. His screams scraped the walls and floors as he gripped onto his love in a broken embrace, his arms holding the corpse close to his chest. He was hunched over, sobbing into the face of the man he loved, his shattered whimpers unable to be concealed in the curtain of his hair. He squeaked and sobbed, his lungs sending twitches throughout his body as they begged for air.   
Anessimbery stood, her head hanging low, her fingers arched, stiff from remaining in such a position for so long. Her hair fell as she raised her head in pride, her eyes red from her tears, darkening the sable iris even more. Her arched fingers began to feel warm, her breath slowing to a halt as she realized her hands were aflame, just as the lesson earlier. But rather than blue, they resembled her eyes in a deep, infuriated red.


	6. Don't Lay Me in the Dust, For I Will Swim in the Stars

The dust dug into her flesh, the particles infiltrating the creases in her knees, pinching her without remorse.  
His body was laid in a jet crystal, one that Hart would gladly remove once he had entered the Gods’ sanctuary. They leaned every staff he used, starting from his training where Anessimbery sat to an empty space LoTe faced. His image was strewn about the center of the village, the Tet creating stone slabs with his face, the Tatur painting the barren ground with flowers that he adorned and the Tana showering the closed crystal containment with gold and lace. She shook her head. He hated lace. The gold, he would laugh about later, but for the time being, he would respect the Tanain culture and allow them to do as they please.  
Greed didn’t look good on him.  
The Arau in the village did nothing for the dead, for it is a part of life. They were silent and acknowledged the life Anhe had lived with a courteous nod but other than that, there were no gifts. There were no condolences. They barely looked at Ane as her eyes remained fixated on the bed her father would sleep on until his body disintegrated with the cruel mistress of time. His flesh would turn to ash, his muscles to grass and his bones to dirt. He would harbor many lives from his one.  
Including hers.  
Rarmankil was to start his speech for Anhe, giving him a few parting words then his guard would toss the casing into the Dead Waters. That wouldn’t be enough. Of course, for Anhe, nothing would be enough. In Ane’s eyes there were never words to describe Anhe, only actions. He proved many times that he was worthy to be acknowledged as he was in life and respected as in death. He fought through the pain of the Arcanio killing him from the inside out and kept this village safe, for what? A few parting words?   
“The dying don’t seem to matter when they’re dead.” She rose from her knees, her red skirt clean of dust. She rubbed her arms which were uncomfortably exposed, the dust tickling her neck as it danced through the wind. The only difference the Arau display when saying goodbye to their dead is having their kin remove all coverings when they are in the public eye for a single day, displaying the dead’s legacy for all to see. For all who cared, at least.   
She hugged herself, gazing down at the ground so no one would look at her face which was damaged from lack of sleep and crocodile tears. She glanced past the gold and flowers on the casing to see if LoTe was still on his knees, mourning the loss of his love. She only saw the brown tip of his ear and decided to cross over to the other side.   
“Don’t move.” She hadn’t heard his voice all day and he was already reprimanding her. “Stay where you are. He needs both of us on either side.”  
She turned and stood on her side, watching a few of the Council members from afar. Rarmankil stood in the center of them as they walked forward, towering over Anhe’s casing and finally speaking.   
“Allow the gods to…” Ane felt her mind cover itself with a small blanket, her ears blocking out the sound as she stared at the golden staff he had allowed her to use during her breaking ceremony. It still glimmered from when he had cleaned it, allowing her to sit with him as he spoke about the days when he used it to impress LoTe. She would giggle, lean forward and beg for him to tell her more about when he and LoTe were young and how much magic it took to convince him to stay.  
She sneered. They know nothing of him, they don’t even care. They’re only upset because their guard dog is dead, and they can never have another one like him. There is no such Arau as Anhe L’amane. He died for this village and all they can do is talk. Words mean nothing. They will do nothing for him. They will do nothing for me. Her thoughts flooded her, as if the strengthened dam she was showing them was beginning to crack. He is not a tool. We are not tools. Magic users are people…I’m people…I’m an Arau, this is my land too-! Her breath became shallow. They won’t miss him, they’ll find another to try and guard the borders…the borders… Her eyes widened as she gazed up at Rarmankil, her throat squeezing her breath.  
“Rest now with the gods, Anhe. Your work here is done.”   
“Is yours?”  
The Council turned their heads, tens of eyes gazing down at her from their place. Rarmankil nodded, stepped forward and approached her, his robes trailing behind him.   
“Of course not, child.” He lowered his head to her. “Allow him to rest now.”  
“I am allowing him to rest. You never did…” She stepped back, brushing her hands together, tiny sparks of Arcanio forming on her palms as she reached out, summoning her father’s golden staff into her hand and pointing it at Rarmankil.   
“Soothe your heart, child-“  
“I am not a child! I am Anessimbery L’amane, daughter of Anhe L’amane, the Arau mage of Iliana. Who are you?” She swung the staff around, multiple guards running up to subdue her. She slammed the staff down, forming a dome around them and pointing it back at the Council member. “The leader of the Arau? Where is your proof? What have you done for this village? What have you done for any of us?”  
Rarmankil did not respond. He inhaled, standing up to face her. His eyes were as dark as the stars sky, his face scarred from the battles he had won centuries ago. Anessimbery remained in her stance, unafraid of a useless leader who had done nothing for the past century and left every demanding duty to her father.   
“He’s dead because of the borders…the borders your guards were supposed to monitor. Yet, you tell me to soothe my heart? My heart will never be soothed by scum such as you.”   
Rarmankil stood his ground, his eyes glaring down at her, not with disdain or disapproval but with unchallenged authority. “Will it be soothed by my death then?”  
“Do not try to intimidate me! What happened at the borders?!”  
“I couldn’t attend, that’s why your father was there.”  
“Couldn’t attend? What, was this some sort of ancient ceremony?! Cut the praka.” Her teeth were gritted in her furious pursuit.   
“What.   
Happened.   
At.   
The.   
Borders?”  
“I told you, I wasn’t there. Are you dense, my child?”  
Ane swung the staff, knocking Rarmankil into the dust. She squeezed the cool gold tightly, a grunt erupting from her as the Arcanio in her veins seeped into the staff, the weapon glowing with a light blue hue. Her eyes screamed for vengeance as they stared at the fallen leader, her mind sending a few doubts her way: What if she can’t kill him? What if she’s arrested or executed for treating him like the dirt he is?   
What if he truly doesn’t know anything?  
She shook her head. “Do not insult me,” Her posture remained vigilant, her voice cold and collected. “That is an attack on the dead. Not that it matters much at all to you. You disobey Hart’s every hymn, the very god that protects us from the bereavement within this cruel world. You are so very lucky that Hart does not pity the weak.” She gritted her teeth. “Those who kill for their own gain!”  
“You think I killed your father?”  
“You allowed him to infiltrate the borders with no other mages! There was Pselus there! It killed him! I’m sure he’s not the only one who’s suffered from it!” She pressed the glowing staff against his throat. “Tell me what happens at the borders or I will take you to Hart myself!”   
He stared at the young mage before him, the determination in her eyes was a weak curtain to hide what was behind. She was desperate to point a finger or in this case, a staff. He placed two fingers on the edge of the weapon, watching her demeanor shatter before his eyes, her arms shaking as the weapon lowered into the dust.   
She dropped it with a clang, her fists clenched tight. It rolled back, hitting her foot gently, as her chest heaved with the effort of fighting back tears. She swallowed, biting her tongue when she heard herself whimper when Rarmankil got to his feet and approached her. She hung her head.   
He dusted himself off and didn’t face her. He listened to her strained whimpers, her heart shattering like glass as the dejection began to truly set in. He wasn’t going to entertain her, not even if she was in mourning. Her mind was precious, she was incredibly intelligent, yet she utilized the passionate emotions she had for menial subjects. Such as blaming her tribe’s leader for her father’s death.  
Rarmankil folded his hands in front of him, glanced at her and locked eyes. She saw his eyes squint as he looked at her, a slight grimace on his mouth. Her throat closed as she listened to the dragging of his feet.   
Her eyes rose to face his retreating body, her mind and heart fighting to agree. She was required to take the shield down to release him. She must take the shield down to release him.   
Or she could keep the vermin in its cage.  
She knew the guard would break their way through and try to take her away.   
But he was responsible for leaving the only mage in this village to die as a result of faulty border control-  
She stood, her hands engulfed in flames as she ran at him, the dust wrapping around her staff. She threw one hand out, blasting hot flames towards him, her teeth bared in mangled revenge. He took a small step to the side, avoiding the blast, but not avoiding the kick to the back. She summoned the staff into her hands, gripping it with both palms, prepping to beat him over the head with it. Rarmankil shoved her off, scrambling to his feet.  
“Are you mad, child?! Enough!”   
She didn’t respond. Instead, she held her weapon over her head, Arcanio glowing from her hands as she split it into two golden blades with magic-based hilts. She swung them around the way LoTe did when he was unamused, her eyes filled with fury, her hands reigniting.   
“Anessimbery, stop this! Please!”   
“You killed him. You gaze at me with no remorse!” She rose her blades.   
Then was struck down by a sudden blast of light, her ribs cracking with the impact. She landed in the dust with a thud, blood bursting from her coughing maw, groans and whines swimming out as well. She rolled her cheek onto the ground, bits of dust mixing with the blood and mucus, placed her hand near her face, and pushed the ground to lift herself up. She fell back on her side, the fragments of her broken bones rattling inside her flesh. Her scream was enough to shatter the crystal her father lay in, his body surrounded by peaceful tidings by those who loved his work. Not him.  
Her eyes faced the skies, her crimson-stained teeth bared at the sanctuary above her. She wished she could see him. She wished she could see those dark brown eyes that had carried her from the basket into her very first Creation Day, bouncing her and showing her how to greet every tribe properly.   
“Nah-!” She shrieked again. “Not him! Not him! Why would you do this to me?!” She wriggled in the dust a bit. “Papa, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ve failed you! I-agh!”  
“Enough, Ane!” Soyahe ran up to her, their mourning garments flowing in the wind. “What has pained you so much, you resort to this?!”  
“Papa!” She ignored her teacher’s outcry. “Papa…!” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the casing be lifted by Rarmankil’s guard. “No! No, Papa-!” The dust and tears burned her eyes. “Papa, no, there is so much we haven’t done! I’ve failed you once, I’m sorry! I will never fail you again!” She laid her arms across her torso, shifting over to her side. Her feet began to push her along the dust, tiny pieces of ground slicing her flesh.   
“Papa?!” She scraped against the filthy ground. “Do you hear me?! Papa, please!”   
“I do!”   
Anessimbery collapsed in the dust, her legs weakened from the sound of his voice. A ringing began in her ears, her eyes fixated on the casing in the air for a moment before dropping into the waters. Her mouth remained open, her bottom lip sliced by the broken ground, the blood on the outside mixing with the blood from the inside. Her eyes shivered, a shot of pain swimming through her mind, her eyes burning as it faced every memory it could fathom, her mind, like her body, never allowed a rest. She felt them twitching in her skull, her deep browns shifting into a bright citrine, thin streaks of blood replacing the tears.   
“I do-!” LoTe’s voice was broken, tear stains saturated with more of his tears. He lowered himself to his knees, sitting in front of her. Her eyes were directed in the same spot, her mouth trying to form the word ‘Papa’ again, but her bottom lip merely met her top, not forming a single sound.  
“I…hear you…my darling…” He leaned over, gently rubbing her hair then cupping her bleeding face.   
“I hear you.”


	7. I Don't Dream

“The tomfoolery has gotten quite out of hand, don’t you think?” She leaned back in her cushy seat, her talons running through the smooth, rich locks she had inherited from her late mother. “You could be doing so much more…”  
“I didn’t ask for your input, did I, my child?”  
“I shouldn’t need to ask permission.”  
“You will whilst I’m the leader.”  
“This isn’t school. You’re my father, not my friend.”  
“That’s a bit rude, isn’t it?”  
She rolled her eyes. Every piece of land that has been sewn upon this planet is within her eyesight, her intuition displayed in the Council room for all to see. He barely gave her credit, waving his hand and nodding at her then continuing with his futile ramblings. Every idea she suggested was shut down before she even opened her mouth. The other Council members weren’t quite eager to hear what she had to say but they were most definitely curious. She never showed signs of distress, never stomped her feet or hissed out of turn, unless it had to do with the fate of her people, the people she would have to rule and most likely fix if Filedine continued to rule as he did.  
“As I was saying…” He rambled on about the definition of unity, explaining how the tribes must become one in order to properly defeat the plague of Pselus at the borders of Iliana and the Barelands. She had heard this speech hundreds of times, not only in his practice, but also during the various meetings the Council held. His talk of unity was always incoherent where it needed to be the most precise and that is where she took her mental notes.  
She had been studying these politics ever since she was just a fledgling, becoming what she felt was a proper leader for the future Tana. She knew every tribe greeting, what was appropriate to speak of and whether she could wear silver or not in front of the Iseiling she was speaking to. She even knew every flaw in the current Council. Including her own father.  
The concept of unity is useless during this time, attempting to promote it after the death of an Arau mage is questionable. There are riots within their villages already, the tribe infuriated that a rare hope of theirs is now dead and Rarmankil barely batted an eye. She didn’t blame him, he’s an idiot, after all. The lack of security near the Barelands was her father’s responsibility, but rather than send more of them out, he simply waved his hand and had them sent to her instead. For protection.   
Protection… She rolled her eyes. If anyone needs protection, it should be you.   
She clicked her talons on the golden arm of her chair, enjoying the adorable pulink pulink pulink on the hard surface. She swung her feet, bobbing her head side to side as her brain tried to come up with a fake song:  
“There is no hope if you sit on your ass  
Don’t act like I haven’t learned this in my class  
The people are angry  
Tired  
And scared  
Because you couldn’t be found anywhere  
You’re the idiot  
You are the fool  
I can’t wait until you finally die  
So, I can rule.”  
She observed her father wave his hands about, his talons drawing pictures in the air as if the Council members didn’t understand what a double-wide connecting canal was. Why was he talking about that? She doesn’t remember. He would attempt to tie it back to this unity nonsense at any moment now, causing her extreme nausea and violent urges.   
“Connecting the Tteip and water within our river systems would not only produce profit, but it would also allow our alchemists to have enough energy to power their testing of Pselus.” Some of the Council members muttered to one another. “It would bring efficiency to us all, uniting the tribes in a time of need.”  
“Tlea, help me…” She growled.   
“What was that?” Her father locked eyes with her. She simply waved her hand and said nothing.  
What the tribes truly needed wasn’t a united nation, it was a temporary retreat. Time to become re-accustomed to their cultures, before Arcanio practically ran social circles. Most importantly, the Arau need time to readjust to their sudden loss and properly return to the way things were.  
“And furthermore…”  
“Father.”  
“What is it, Syrreth?”  
“May I ask, why we are speaking of the canals when there are riots happening within the Arau tribes?”  
“I was just getting to that-“  
“Did you plan on discussing the death of their only mage or the minimal trading they’ve been doing?” She couldn’t resist the smirk pulling at her lips. She knew his speech from the inside out.  
“I…” Filedine cleared his throat. “Its just as important for them to trade, no matter what tragedy arises.”  
“Father, would you and our people be trading if I died?”  
He sucked in air through his fangs. “Syrreth-“  
“Trading feels pointless during tragedy. They’re a magic-based tribe. You should know, Council member.”  
“I…” He shook his head. “I do lend my condolences to the tribe for their loss, but we have more important matters at hand. Trade and the structure of the villages must change to benefit all Iseilings, including the ones in the cities.”  
“The cities are fine-“  
“Will you stop?!” He snapped at her, his fangs elongated and bared in her direction.  
The Tatur representative, Irresh, rose from her seat. “I do think your daughter has some very interesting ideas…”   
“I agree.” Rarmankil interjected.  
“I will let her speak when I let her speak.”  
Syrreth placed her hands on her hips. “And you never do.”  
“Oh? Daughter, what did I tell you about being rude?”  
“Father, what did I tell you about being dumb?”  
He bit his tongue, his fangs retracting. The other members’ eyes were wide with shock, Irresh let out a tiny gasp. She glared at him as he ran a nervous hand through his ashy grey locks, a struggling swallow falling down his throat.   
He plastered on a smile. “Now, now, sweetheart-“  
“You do realize that Tteip is poisonous to us, don’t you? Do you want to taint our water supply?”  
“Watch your tone-“  
“Read a book,” She stood. “Or better yet, look outside. Open your eyes, you old cretin.” A tingling sensation swept over her. “The Arau do not need assistance, let alone from someone as flimsy as you.”  
“Syrreth-!”  
She felt heat behind her eyes, the Arcanio in her veins swimming excitedly. “You were the one who left the borders unattended…”   
“Hah?!” Din whipped his head around to face Filedine. “You left tha borders unattended?! Even when my militia offered to assist?!”  
“Don’t you see?” Her stomach bubbled with anticipation. “He is incompetent…he left most of the guards with me…”  
“Why in Nepe’s name would you need to use them for her?” Irresh glared at Filedine.   
“Bad behavior, Irresh. I wasn’t cooperating, so he sent me to my quarters for a full week, constantly monitored by his guard so that I wouldn’t play with Arcanio in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”   
Rarmankil gave her eyes. “Wrong place?”  
She held her head high, matching his status within a matter of moments as her father felt the daggers of a thousand eyes upon him. Rarmankil was a bit startled, his eyebrows twitching as he tried to stare down this child. Syrreth shifted for a moment, folding her hands in front of her. She saw his gaze begin to falter, his eyebrows lowering and turning his face into a protective frown.  
“It was a mistake I will never make again!”   
“Nevah make again? Why did you make it in da firs’ place? Leaving the Bareland borders completely unattended…killed a man!”  
“That isn’t all. It’s spreading to my villages, the Tatur’s Arcanio cannot hold off Pselus for very long!” Irresh rubbed their hands together, nervously. “You must fix this!”  
“He doesn’t know how,” She stepped up onto the table. “All he knows is capital gains and the color gold.”   
“Filedine…” Rarmankil stepped over to him, placing his hands on his shoulders. “Is this true?”  
“It was my mistake I must solve it on my own…”  
“Yet, you speak of unity?!” Din was becoming unruly. “Praka! How dare you endanger my people this way?!”  
“The Arau can’t even defend us now! They’re without a mage!”  
“What do you suppose we do?!”  
“The borders must be secured before we fret about the individual tribes-“  
“These are your people, Rarmankil! Do you not care?!”  
“Think of da ones like Syrra!” Din gestured at Syrreth. “She is the only one of yous speakin’ sense!”  
“No, no, no, you don’t understand-“  
“You nevah let ha speak! She has the mind of a thousan’ stars, do not snuff ‘dem out!”  
“Yes, I know! But-“  
“But a’nothin’!” He turned to Syrreth. “What else do you know, Syrra? What has Filedine been keepin’ from us?”  
“That is all for now…” She smirked, lowering herself onto the table, her legs hanging off the edge. “What I want to know is: What will you do now?”   
Filedine felt himself vibrating in his position, unsure if he should speak or not. Syrreth had never managed to keep the Council members interested in her ideas, yet she managed to speak to them without being interrupted a single time. He swallowed hard, doing his best to analyze his daughter’s actions each time she moved. She was by his side for the length of his speech and he hadn’t heard or seen her perform any Arcanio. It isn’t exactly a discreet art.  
“Rarmankil?” Her voice was a song. “What do you think?”  
“We must eliminate the issues at hand.”  
Irresh raised a hand. “We can’t eliminate them, no. But we can begin to fix them.”   
“Yes…” He nodded. “I do apologize. Fix them.”  
Syrreth nodded, her head slowly turning to Filedine. “What do you propose, father?”  
“I…” His eyes danced around her. “I agree with Rarmankil.”  
“Rarmankil has been awful quiet, you see…” Din glared at him.  
“I’m a bit occupied, my people just lost one of the last mages we had protecting us.”  
“That is why we’re having a meeting, to discuss such issues.” Syrreth sighed, shaking her head. “But I do apologize for my father distracting you…”  
“Nah, nah. He is fine.”  
“I don’t think so,” She stepped down, approaching the tall Arau. “Your people are lost and the only solution they have is to point fingers and claws. We were supposed to discuss how to bring peace to them.”  
“What is this ‘we’? You are not a Council member.”  
“She should be!”   
“Din, please-“  
“Nah, NAH!” He slammed his hand on the table. “All Filedine ever discusses is capidal, we do not need capidal when an entiya group of Iseilings are in danjah!”  
“I can’t help but agree…” Irresh’s voice was small, but firm in her pursuit.  
“Yah! We need ta’ do this right!”  
“What do you think we should do, Din?” Syrreth didn’t look at him, she only listened to the sound of his steps approaching her, Irresh’s gentle footsteps quickly following. They both stood at her side, a wall barring the two other Council members from escaping.  
“I propose we temporarily suspend Filedine.”  
Rarmankil shook his head. “Irresh!”  
“I agree wit’ ha.”  
“Din, please! Talk some sense!”  
“Deh only one who has been talkin’ sense has been Syrra! What have you said, my friend?”  
“My people are in danger-“  
“Because of my father. I accept it, why don’t you?” Her eyes burned into Rarmankil’s, a single step forward sending him three steps back.   
“Things are fine the way they are!” Filedine managed to get a word in.  
“DO NOT SAY THAT!” Irresh shrieked, causing those surrounding to jump. “My people are in danger! One of his people has died, a mage! The only one who could have possibly stopped this!”  
Filedine held his hands up. “Don’t get hysteric on me!”  
“Hysteric?!” Her hands arched, green glowing from her hands. “I…will show you hysteric!” She quickly stepped forward, her hand gripping the where Filedine once stood, only dust in her wake. She looked up and saw he had exposed his wings, using them to avoid her grasp.   
“You have done nothing for anyone but yourself!” Irresh raised her hand, a single green blast shooting towards him. “You allow your people to thrive while ours perish with your gains!”  
He managed to dodge it. “I told you! It was a mistake!”  
“Get down and face me!”   
Syrreth placed an arm in front of Irresh, blocking her from assaulting her father any further. “Remain calm for your people.”   
Irresh glanced at the delicate, pale hand on her shoulder. “My…people?”  
“Yes. Your people. Do not bring mine into it.” Syrreth pushed her hand down, Irresh’s magic slowly retreating into her hand.   
“We a’ not eliminating ‘im, Rarmankil,” Din offered a hand to his friend. “Dis is only temporary. Please. Tink of your people.”  
Rarmankil pursed his lips, taking a slow, contemplative inhale before looking back at Filedine. Syrreth focused on his face, the muscles under his eyes twitching from lack of nutrients. He must have been up for days, trying to think of ways to keep the Arau from banding against him and destroying one another in the process. She knew that some had begun to leave the area, trying to get as far away from the Pselus as possible. He gripped Filedines shoulder, nodding then slowly stepping towards Din, taking his hand.  
Filedine gazed at his friends, his colleagues, the council he had spent decades trying to perfectly piece together, all standing against him now, his daughter closest to him whilst they lingered behind. She nodded, walking towards her father in a sympathetic manner. He was unmoving as she approached him, placing a kind hand on his arm and turning to the rest of the Council.  
“Someone must speak for the Tana,” She inhaled, shifting her pouting lips to the side. “Because of the sudden lacking in our leadership and the temporary suspension of my father, I will take his seat on the Council.”  
Rarmankil stared at the ground, not saying a word as Irresh and Din nodded in agreement. Din stomped his feet and clapped, quickly nodding his head at Syrreth. Irresh whistled and curtsied. It took Rarmankil a moment to gather up the sense to properly say goodbye to Syrreth and Filedine the Arau way. He stared at the ground for a long while, his face twitching and shifting with the various conflicts he was feeling weigh down on him. He stood up straight, hit his chest twice on the left side and grunted once, not looking at Syrreth, but at Filedine. Syrreth shifted her gaze to the left, doing her best to give them a moment’s privacy.  
“Roshane…” Rarmankil whispered.  
“Nah, nah,” Filedine swallowed hard, keeping his clenched fists at his sides. “This will be fixed…” He nodded. “I will fix this.”  
“Protake, Filedine. Protake.” With that, Rarmankil and the other Council members exited the meeting room, the guards escorting them all the way to the marble doors.  
Syrreth turned her head back to her father. The distressed image his face projected shot satisfaction into her muscles. She relaxed, her posture going limp, arms falling loosely at her sides.   
“I do apologize, Father,” She ran a hand through her hair. “But you out of all of them should have been intelligent enough to realize that your ramblings are useless. This is a true crisis, after all.”   
He didn’t respond. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t move a muscle.   
“What did you do to them?”   
“What did I…?” She snickered. “All I did was use a little charisma.”  
“I am not playing this game anymore,” He faced her. “What did you do?”  
“I used a charm.” She pulled out the tiniest pebble, perfectly round and completely violet, the matte finish hiding any indication of what could be on the inside. Filedine did have an idea though.   
“You…” He felt his heart drop as his eyes glued to the pebble.  
“I did what was right. You weren’t going to admit you were wrong. They weren’t going to say anything. They would just allow you to ramble like an idiot without considering the consequences if you actually did put a plan into action…” She held a finger to her lips. “Oh wait…”   
“You have made your point. You’ve proven it again and again, they were even willing to listen! Their reactions were exactly what you wanted, am I wrong?!”  
“No.” She sat on the table again, her golden jewelry jingling.   
“Then why did you continue to manipulate them into removing my seat?!”  
“They didn’t remove your seat. They removed you from your seat.”  
“That still doesn’t explain why you needed it!”  
“I’m not the one who continuously utilizing my power for strictly me and my family,” She waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you truly are better off the Council, you’re denser than the gold you fondle in the night.”  
“You can’t handle what the Council has to put up with, Syrreth!”  
She fiddled with the charm. “And you can?”  
“You used a charm to get your way, are you going to use every magic trinket you have to get what you want?!”  
“If that’s how it’ll be, that’s how it’ll be.” She hopped off the table. “Watch, in two weeks, these tribes will face a new clarity they have never experienced before. We all need a change, Father. Including you…”   
Rage filled his heart. He snatched the charm away from her, throwing it onto the ground. It shattered, its pieces quietly dissipating within the wind, the scent of blood and stale Arcanio danced near his nostrils.  
“Oh my,” She pouted, lowering herself to where the charm once was. “That will take hours to make another…”  
He grabbed her by the face, his first two fingers and his thumb squeezing her cheeks until he felt her second set of teeth. “You have defied me for far too long now, Syrreth…” His eyes shifted into an unsettling yellow, his pupils shaped thin and vertical. “I will have the guard destroy all of those precious scrolls you hide behind the walls, I will have them crush every vial you have on your shelves, I will have them burn every book your eyes have ever laid on. You have taken far too much from me.”  
She dug her talons into his arm, his blood splattering onto her face as he let out a beastly yell. Her canines extended a bit more, the tips sharpening to blade point, her eyes shifting into a glowing purple.   
“You think I’m not used to this already, Father? I am not Mother,” She dug her talons deeper until she felt his veins, one of them hooking onto it. “I planned an escape each time, just in case you would do it to me…”  
He hissed, screaming as she pressed all her weight into her hand, dragging the veins and sinews within his arm down with gravity. His teeth were bared, sharpened to their most deadly points. The remaining blood within his arm began to boil, her hands heating up quickly, at this point he wasn’t even sure if it was magic or just the Tana’s biological adaptations. He shrieked at her, hissing to scare her off but she continued, admiring her work with a vicious smile.   
He yanked himself out of her grip, doing his best to catch his balance. His shoe scraped against the stone floor, his hand slapping onto the edge of the table. He held on to the edge, falling to one knee, sweat and blood drip, drip dripping onto their floor.  
She pinched the side of her dress, lifting it up. It spread into a gorgeous mix of violet and red, the silk shimmering in the bright lights. She spun around completely once, her hand still dripping in her father’s blood, her shoes quietly clip clopping on the now stained floor.   
“Thankfully, this isn’t one of my favorites,” She tossed her hair back. “Or you might’ve made a pathetic threat with my clothes instead, hm…how embarrassing.” She leaned over so they were face to face. He lurched back when he saw her eyes, terror creeping up his throat. 

“I’ve only treated you well, Syrreth! Why are you doing this?! I even risked this tribe for you!”  
“I didn’t ask for the guards, I asked for a bit more security around the citadel,” She swirled in her dress again, stopping when she faced the window. She walked up to it, resting her hands on the sill. “I didn’t ask to be hounded by your soldiers. How can I be productive when I have a cleaver-faced underbite sweating on my scrolls?” She picked up one of Filedine’s many parchments, wiping his blood off her hand. “They would have done a splendid job guarding the Onset. If I couldn’t get past them to use to bathroom, no one could.”  
Filedine grunted, pushing both hands on the table, leaning over. His blood dripped on the clean surface, his breath fogging up the glass with each heave. He stumbled a bit, a few scrolls and parchment slipping off the table and onto the floor. Syrreth turned to face him again and rolled her eyes.  
“You’re not this weak…” She picked his flesh from under her talons. “We’ve done worse damage in an argument. If I knew you were this weak, I would’ve cast you into the Barelands a long time ago. Granted, it takes fourteen weeks to prep transportation through a potion. I could just poison you, but that wouldn’t be very nice. It would be dirty. A fair fight is more fun and gives either of us a chance for the chair, but I suppose it isn’t fair considering I only damaged your left arm and you’re already begging for a nurse…”  
“I did…nothing…”  
“You left a population to die, how dare you say you did nothing?!” She quickly approached him, her strides engulfing the ground. “The. Arau’s. Only. Mage. Is dead.” She tossed her hands in the air. “You even admitted to saying it was your fault, were you lying then too, Father? You seem to enjoy it…”  
“What are you going to do during the next…meeting?”  
“Oh, time for small talk? Of course, I would love to!” She leaned over. “Ah, well, first of all…” She tapped a single finger on her chin, her face painted with fake contemplation. “Oh, of course!” She lifted her dress a bit and swung her leg into his face, a crack echoing throughout the chamber.  
He crumpled to the ground, a few of his teeth fallen bloodily onto the stone. She picked him up by his ebony locks and stared into his eyes, hers remaining that Tanain purple.   
“Unlike you, my plans are kept close to my heart. You spout nonsensical ideas with seemingly no end. I? Craft, destroy and sew mine together until they’re worth more than an entire speech of yours. My mouth is reserved for articulate procedures, yours is desperate for any sort of approval.”   
She flung him onto the stone floor, his blood showering her minimally. She scoffed, sneered and flicked her hand, wiping what was left on her dress. She took a deep inhale, nostrils flaring as she smelled the air. He wasn’t dead yet…  
“Syrr..eth…”  
“Really?” She shook her head. “You really want those to be your last words?” She sauntered around the room, sharpening her talons on the rocky walls before lowering herself to his level. “What is it, Father?”  
“My…daughter…”  
She pursed her lips. The broken man before her was everything but her father, she barely even knew she had one with the way he acted. She was his prize. She was accustomed to the extravagant language and formal introductions since she was first learning to fly. He had always treated her like another customer he had to please, giving her whatever she wanted, whenever she asked for it. That’s probably what he was trying to do now, give her what she wanted. A father.  
“You’re an idiot.” She stood. “Call me that all you want. Pretend you are the heroic man who saved his little one from destruction, you are destruction.” She gritted her teeth. “I’m trying to build from your reign…” She sighed, tears scraping at her throat. “How…dare you…” She covered her face, her own talons digging into her forehead skin. “How…how dare you…?”  
“Syrreth-“  
She shook her head, guarding her pouring eyes with her palms, the salty tears seeping into a few of her scales, leaving beautiful, shining patterns on her skin. She had never known a father, a papa, a dad. She had barely known a mother. But the woman Syana was is what Syrreth needed to become. She was an unstoppable force that took decades to knock down. For herself, Syrreth wanted it to take eons.  
“Syrreth-“  
“Silence.” Her voice was but a hiss before a single slash quieted Filedine for the rest of her time on this plane. She stared at the blood retreating from the body and into her dress, refuges searching for a place to stay.  
A chill ran through her flesh as if the Arcanio had froze her blood. She felt like it knew what she had done and wanted to demolish her from the inside out as punishment. But the poor magic requires chaos to stay alive. She destroyed the most chaotic force in her presence to keep harmony in the lead. Yet, her heartfelt a specified melancholy, one that had cut her mind’s celebration short.   
She had gotten more than she gained, but she still got what she wanted. Syrreth ran her hand down the blood, pale fingers spread wide to dye crimson with her family blood. As far as she knew, there was nothing more to do now.   
Was this heartbreak?  
She needed direction, a new move…  
Was this grief?  
She had to find a place to START.  
Was she in agony for her father?  
Enough! Shut up, silence, be quiet, all of it! She squeezed her eyes tight, a tear slipping onto her face. She let it fall quietly, causing a ripple in the crimson puddle.  
She let out a sigh, scooping the blood with her talons, a ladle picking up minuscule portions of soup. She rocked her finger back and forth, the blood swaying from side to side, a few drops falling onto the ground and back into the puddle she had created. Her eyes returned to that exhausted blue, heavy from all she had done, her back arched and revealing the nubs of her hidden wings that were desperate for air. She shook her head.   
This was most definitely not part of the plan.   
Syrreth leaned back then lurched forward again, flexing the dress open so her wings could breathe. She lay on her back, the leathery beauties sprawled on the cool floor as her mind ran through the millions of options she had now. She suddenly wished the parchment wasn’t tossed around, it was now soaked in Filedine’s blood. Her mind birthed hundreds of concepts, each one desperate to find the end goal before any other. She could lay here and wait for guards to see, she could get up and bring the corpse to her guard or she could call for Omiya to come-  
Her eyes snapped open. Omiya. A smirk tugged at the end of her mouth. All she needed was to use a bit of energy to collect some of the leftover blood, leaving just enough for the guards to panic. She rose from her dilemma, a master plan forming within her cranium, overtaking all the others.   
Her feet dragged across the floor, a short practice before fooling the guards into thinking she was badly injured. She stood in front of the door a moment, the presence of Filedine’s corpse looming over her. Her stomach churned at the thought of escaping, running away from this and never looking back. But that would leave her people. She couldn’t leave her people. She inhaled slowly, her mind buzzing and heart racing as she fell through the doors.  
“HELP! Help me! My father-Oh Tlea, my father! Hel-“ She opened her eyes to realize no one was there.   
And this is why we are on the crux of extinction, Father.  
She scampered down the hall very quickly until she heard the jingle of guardian anklets, then proceeded the screaming. She threw herself onto the ground, wailing for help. The guards sprang into action, reaching to help her up, doing their best to examine her wounds.  
“My father, my father-!” She took a deep inhale. “My father is dead!” She began to weep into the guard’s arms, whimpering and shrieking as she listened to tens of footsteps enter the meeting room.   
“Syrreth! Syrreth, please stay calm! Please!”   
“Omiya! Omiya! Bring me to her now!” She sobbed. “BRING ME TO HER!”  
“Of course!” The guard scooped her off the ground, throwing her off her game. She snapped back into her fake sobs, doing her best to keep him in his place. He had touched her without permission, for one then continues to talk to her when she’s obviously distressed, who trained him? Clearly someone who didn’t know what they were doing.  
He ran her all the way to Omiya’s chamber, tens of guards swiftly turning into hundreds when word of death entered the air. She watched some acquire weapons, some pulling other guards along and some running head-on without armor, weapons or anything. She could see the distress in their eyes, mouths falling agape and eyebrows raising as they hear the news. They all sprint to their chief’s rescue with such a loyalty, it’s almost heartwarming.  
Idiots.   
The guard placed her down, knocking on the door to Omiya’s chamber. Syrreth sniffed, inhaling his scent to imprint it in her mind. He was very kind, a bit handsy, but kind enough to be helpful in what she had in store for the future.   
“Omiya! Please, open the door it’s an emergency!”  
They heard a mumble from behind the heavy door. “You may open…”   
The guard did as he was told, stepping back so Syrreth could run in. She sprinted into Omiya’s arms, sobbing into her dress. The guard bowed and gently closed the door. Syrreth kept the false tears up until she felt Omiya growl in disgust.  
“Are you done?”  
Syrreth stood up, wiping the last of the crocodile tears away. “That’s no way to speak to the new Tana representative.”  
“Why is the chief dead?” Omiya had gone straight to the point, her scarlet eyes digging into Syrreth.  
“Unlike my father, I know I’m capable of mistakes…”  
“He was supposed to be kept alive, Syrreth. Please calm your eagerness for one night…” She sat back in her chair, a hand running through her short cut hair and resting on the back of her head.  
“I apologize. But I do have some of his blood, if you’re interested.”   
“Tanain blood is useless and you know that.”  
“It’s not.” She pulled out the vial where his blood was kept. She crushed the glass in her fist, creating a crystalized blood shard. “Now I have a dagger.”  
“We have bigger problem. What is the Council going to be thinking when you tell them your father is dead? All of a sudden? Right after you were placed in his chair?”  
“I won’t tell them. You will.”  
“Hah?!” Omiya stood again. “I am not allowed!”  
“You are if I say so.” Syrreth held out her hand, summoning a blank parchment.  
Omiya shook her head. “This is not for a sick day! I am not allowed in the Council room-beside, where will you be?”  
“I have plans.”  
“You always have plan. You never tell me what plan is.”  
“I know, I’m sorry for that.” Syrreth placed a hand on her heart, bowing her head a bit. “If I want you to continue to be my advisor, I should tell you everything.”  
Omiya sighed, scratching the back of her head. “Nah, nah. Do not bow for me…” She took Syrreth’s hands, intertwining their fingers. “Please, please, tell me plan…”  
Syrreth looked up at her, smiling. “Since we can’t run our experiment on Father, I’ve decided that there is a new problem within Isei…”  
“Is it the Arau chief?”  
Syrreth smiled mischievously. “Yes…Arau chief, Rarmankil. We must speak with him privately.”  
“When you say ‘speak’, do you mean speak talking or do you mean,” Omiya lifted a vile with a black substance in it, swirling it around and causing it to spark and hiss. “’Speak’?”  
“I mean talking, Omiya. He was under pressure because of all the other members being there and my charm didn’t make them anymore friendly.”  
“I tell you, you must use ponki flower to make them nice!”  
“I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry.”  
“You always think. What is wrong?”  
Syrreth was taken aback, her eyebrows furrowing. “Wrong?”  
“I can see…you’re not happy.”   
Syrreth swallowed, inhaling slowly as she stared at her friend. Omiya’s eyes were mesmerizing, the gentle light of her favorite candle causing them to glow. Syrreth saw the scar on her lip from when she was little, accidentally taking the end of a guard’s spear to the face. Omiya tilted her head, the soft look in her eyes contrasted majestically with her strong face and odd fangs that poked out, no matter how many times she attempted to retract them.  
Syrreth exhaled. “This is not a happy time, Omiya. It won’t be for a while. But I’m going to make it happy again.”


	8. Destruction Without Structure is Wind Without the Air

Syrreth cleared her throat, smoothing out her shimmering red dress. She stared into the shining glass, the hard, amethyst pillars elegantly keeping the mirror in place, glittered and complimented the beautiful figure before her. She turned, the dress shimmering as she admired the length of her hair, an exquisite symbol for the new chief of the Tana tribe. She placed her hands on the glossy vanity, her hands adoring the cool, luxurious material, God of Wealth, Tlea gracing her with the visual confidence needed for this meeting. She was to appear calm but broken, gaining pity from her fellow comrade after losing her father so suddenly, in order to weave the first strings of her plan into his mind. She realized the difficulty, losing someone so important to his standing kept him in a bitter mood, immovable walls blocking any outside proposals he would vehemently disagree with. But at her age, so young to lose someone so dear to her, she could toy with him all she wanted. Losing blood family was of utmost importance, especially if leaving a child all alone.   
“My friend, I am sorry to tell you that my father was found dead yesterday. I…” She gazed at her near-sobbing face. “I know…no. No, no…” She shook her head, a tired sigh slipping from her pouting lips. “Who am I? Am I not the chief’s daughter?” She ran her talons down her porcelain cheeks, the skin hardening to avoid penetration. “No…I am the chief…” She cleared her throat.  
“I am the chief.”   
She ran her fingers through her silky black hair, pulling it up to expose the wondrous scales on her neck. This would be too formal. If she was to look slightly distraught, her hair would display that emotion as well. Of course, she would appear put together, but the mask was meant to fall at just the right moment to have Rarmankil listen to her proposal. She let it down.  
“Re…” The heavy door creaked open. “I need to talk to…you…”  
Syrreth fixed her eyes on Omiya in the mirror, a heavy sense of dread washing over her. “What happened?”  
“It is…slight bad news…” Omiya closed the door behind her, holding scrolls and flattened parchment to her chest.   
“Did he call it off?” Syrreth quietly growled.  
“Nah, nah. He is fine with meeting with ch’u. But ah…” She cautiously walked up to Syrreth, placing the scrolls on the vanity and holding the flattened parchment in front of her. “It is about the…father blood you gave me.”  
Syrreth didn’t respond, she merely waited for Omiya to continue, gazing at her in the reflection of the mirror, a moon setting behind the sharp portrait of her face. Omiya scanned the parchment hurriedly, eyes hopping back to the top to confirm and reconfirm her assumptions. When she finally looked at Syrreth, her eyes were desperate to stay glued to the paper.  
“It is just…that there were traces of Pselus in his blood.”  
Syrreth snatched the paper out of her hand, Omiya hopping back a step to wait for her new chief to confirm it for herself. The notes were short and simple, barely filling up half of the page, yet there it was, clear as the night. Syrreth wanted to rip the parchment to shreds right there.  
“How?” She didn’t look at Omiya.  
“A guard must have, ah, contracted it. Or it was one of the Council members…”  
“They weren’t there,” She placed her fingers on the bridge of her nose. “It can’t have already spread-“ She felt her eyes widen, her mind light up. If Pselus has already spread within the borders of the Barelands, Iliana and Enceres, that gives them all the more reason to isolate the tribes temporarily. It would prevent a massive spread of involuntary corruption and disease throughout Isei.   
“Re, I don’ know. All I know is that, this is very, very not good.”  
“Omiya, please schedule a Council meeting.”  
“Hah?!” Omiya placed the parchment down. “Did you not hear what I am saying?!”  
“Nah, nah, spitea. Calm down.”  
“Syrreth, you do realize you could have it in your blood too!”  
“How much of it was in his?”   
Omiya threw her hands up, opening each individual scroll to try and locate her numbers.  
“This is exactly why I’m trying to close the borders. If Rarmankil finds out that Pselus not only killed the only mage his tribe had but also…contributed in the death of his friend and fellow Council member, he would have to close off the borders.”  
“You are so clever but so stupid! I am running blood test on you, okay?” Omiya took Syrreth’s arm, retracting her talons to properly slice open her wrist to get a blood sample.  
“This is perfect. This is horrible, I will agree with you on that but-!” She winced when Omiya slit her flesh open with a small blade, squeezing the blood into a clean, corked vial. “This is going very well…”  
“Yes, your father is dead, disease and corruption are infiltrating the borders and the Council does not know how to fix it. Yes, very great.”  
“Please, schedule the meeting and you will see what I mean.”  
“I know what you mean. I do not know if I agree yet.” Omiya continued to sample Syrreth’s blood in silence, filling the vial about halfway before taking out another vial. It had a bright green-blue liquid, a fantastically sweet scent emitting from it when she had ripped the cork out with her teeth. She poured it onto Syrreth’s wound, the fluid collecting the dead skin and dissipating once it fell off Syrreth’s flesh.  
Syrreth simply nodded, rubbing her wrist when Omiya was done. She gazed at herself in the mirror, a single eyebrow raised as she admired her beauty once again before waving Omiya off to do her work. She leaned forward, her mind formulating new routes to approach Rarmankil with. It may be a bit rough around the edges, but she was determined to get what she wanted. If he disagreed, she would have to resort to her Father Method, killing him instead of properly persuading like a good little Tana orator.   
“Chief Rarmankil of the Arau, I have a proposal for you. Since the outbreak of Pselus has all but begun to seep through our borders, I propose we break ties with the tribes. Temporarily keeping the gates closed will keep the entirety of Isei from extinction while also allowing us to reconnect with our routes and our families. Yes, they love family down there…” She nodded to herself, a surge of confidence sending a shiver through her bones.   
There were three knocks on the door. Two. Then one.   
Syrreth approached the door, knocking back twice.   
The guard opened the door. He bowed quickly, sliding out of the way and gesturing for her to exit the room. She flung her hair back, nearly hitting the guard in the nose as she stepped to the rhythm of her own heartbeat, racing down the hallway to the exit. 

 

“Would you like anything, Syrreth?” Rarmankil set down a plate with two small bowls on it, a steaming liquid emitting from each.  
“No, thank you. I do appreciate your hospitality.”  
“I do my best for my fellow Council members.”  
Syrreth pursed her lips, nodding somberly.   
“I…do apologize. I can’t imagine losing someone so dear to your heart.”  
Perfect. “Is that not the way of your god?”   
Rarmankil shook his head. “Nah, nah. Hart knows when our time is up, but he cannot stop it once time has decided how it will end for us.” He took her hand, Syrreth painting more despair on her face. “He merely allows us to move on.”  
“Move on…yes…”  
“Yes.”  
She sighed, placing a hand on her face, resting the elbow on his table. He sat there with his hands folded on his lap, eyes closed as he faced the ground. She opened one eye, observing him then sighed again. She took the warm bowl and put it to her lips, the scent of precious herbs swimming into her nostrils as the warm liquid sank into her throat.  
“Thank you, again, for agreeing to meet with me. But since the death of my father, I can’t help but think we do need to…” She paused. “Move on…”  
Rarmankil looked up. His eyes were that same exhaustion that he had at the previous meeting just a month or so ago, signifying that not much has changed. The Council is supposed to meet every two weeks, but since the most recent events have been quite harrowing for all the leaders, they’ve been forced to postpone. For how long? Who knows.  
“When…my dear friend, advisor and head medicine mage, Omiya, had told me that there was no saving him, I couldn’t seem to imagine a world without him. But I can’t allow myself to wallow here. That would be…pathetic…”  
Rarmankil opened his mouth to speak then stopped, pursing his lips as guilt creeped up his chest. She observed him with masked sad eyes, hiding her analyses of him in glassy melancholy. Nothing has changed, then. He hesitated in speaking, knowing damn well she was right about the wallowing. That was all he was doing, wasn’t it?  
“I am doing my very best, hoping that…that one day, I can make this world safe and happy again.” She forced a gentle smile.  
“Oh, young ones…” He chuckled a bit, loosening up. “I’ve always admired your attitude, trying to keep us all…happy.”  
“Yes, well. What else can I do?”   
Rarmankil chuckled, sipping his comforting tea, an outstretched pause allowing him to truly savor the flavor. Syrreth sipped as well. She felt a sudden wave of nerves congregate within her chest, the words becoming jumbled in her mind. He had to agree with her. He had to. She had no access to charms or potions, Omiya refused to let her near the alchemy chamber again. All she had were the words at her disposal.  
She straightened up, keeping her despairing face still. Rarmankil noticed her sudden shifting, aligning his own position with hers. His eyes didn’t quite meet her, no, they remained fixed on the table. Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she had stopped them, taking another inhale, folding her hands in front of her, then leaning forward.  
“Chief Rarmankil of the Arau…” She cleared her throat. “The loss of my father is an unexpected tragedy, I cannot express the pain I feel…”   
“Oh, my child…” He reached for her knee, his hand hovering slightly over it.  
“But,” She took a shaky inhale. He pulled his hand back, eyebrows raising with concern as she continued: “We cannot sit here and wallow in our sorrows. We must take action.”  
“Action…?” He leaned back in his seat. “You’re so eager to make proposals. Please be patient, your father has just passed…”  
“Hence my acknowledgement-“ She clenched her teeth, preventing the sass from escaping between her lips. “Allow me…to isolate the islands temporarily.”  
Rarmankil stood abruptly, shaking his head at her. “We cannot do that.”  
“If we do so, the islands will be able to reconcile within their borders, preventing any unhinged attacks on the Arau by rogue-“  
“We do not need to isolate the borders for that. The Council and I have already discussed these issues. Irresh offered some of her people to merge with the Arau on the island of Iana. So, we aren’t as powerless as you assume…”  
“No, I’d never assume the Arau are powerless.” She remained calmly in her chair, taking a sip of her tea. “I did not mean that. I am simply telling you, temporarily your people are without defense. Your scouts are immaculate but what if there is a sudden force that they cannot stop? Such as the creature during Creation Day not too long ago…”  
“There will be nothing of that kind if these issues are as temporary as you say.”  
“The Tatur are not an aggressive tribe, they are skilled healers and utilize defensive magics.”  
“Why would the Arau need anything other than defense?”  
“You believe the Tatur are willing enough to help defeat the very people they vowed to protect after the Pselus seeps through the borders? Do you believe they are truly able to stop an issue that is draining into your crops and possibly our very water supply?”  
“We will stop it before it reaches that severity.”  
“How?”  
Rarmankil pursed his lips, his eyes locked on hers as his mind raced for an answer. The Tatur were enough to provide physical defense and heal those who are wounded, but from the Pselus itself, it wouldn’t be enough. They barely know what the substance was, let alone how to stop it.   
Syrreth cleared her throat, removing herself from her chair, her hands folded in front of her. She tilted her head to side, her eyes relaxed, her shoulders relaxed, her arms relaxed. She read the distaste in his bright brown eyes, his mouth contorting as he tried to desperately form the words.   
She straightened out her dress, preparing to leave, taking a few steps past him. “There will be another Council meeting soon, Chief Rarmankil.”  
“Do you not think that isolating the islands will only lead to more separation amongst the tribes?” Rarmankil muttered.  
“Do you spend every single moment with your family?”  
He raised his eyebrows, turning to face the back of her dress.  
“Do you spend every moment with your friends? Your colleagues?”  
“This is not the same!” He finally raised his voice. “Gating off the islands with Iseilings remaining in place-what about transportation? Trade? All of it will be stopped if the borders are closed.”  
Syrreth nodded, slowly turning to face him, gears turning. She shifted on her feet, reconsidering. Isolating the islands is essential, considering the imminent threat that is lurking within the Barelands, one that has been unstoppable since the first Iseiling walked on the surface of this planet. Containing it was enough, but even with the smallest leak, it has killed one of the most powerful mages within the island of Iana.  
She inhaled through her teeth, nodding. “Alright. I agree that we should not close all the borders.”  
“Thank you, Syrreth…”  
“But Enceres is splitting from the Arau tribes.”  
“What?!”  
“It is too close in proximity to the Barelands, the Pselus may have already leaked through the Tteip. The refugees can reside in temporary homes near Iana. They cannot come any closer to the mainlands.”  
“What will happen to Enceres, then?”  
She felt a smirk tug at her lips. “We have fine mages who can work on finding proper cures and techniques to rid your island of Pselus.”  
“What if its spread further than Enceres?! How do you know your kingdom isn’t infected?”  
She gritted her teeth. “My father’s blood had traces of Pselus in it.”  
Rarmankil was silenced eyes wide as he gazed at the young Tana before him, so calm and composed as she dictated her plan to him.  
“That is why your people must leave. Enceres and Iana will be isolated, I will see to it that our military will close off the lands.”  
“What about my people?”  
“It is better to have five die over ten thousand. The rest of the Arau tribe are safe for now, but you know as well as I do that if we continue like this, we are facing extinction.”  
He clenched his fist, his eyes panicked as they read the wooden flooring between them. He found himself stuck in a rock, Syrreth blocking the only exit. The Barelands were right between Enceres and Iana, neither of them containing many Iseilings. However, Iana is where Creation Day was held and Enceres was where the Council held their meetings, leaving both spaces empty could possibly interrupt the process the Iseilings were used to. But temporary emptiness was better than permanent annihilation.  
Rarmankil swallowed hard, releasing his fists and letting out a relaxing breath. He bore into Syrreth’s eyes, unable to retaliate with any sort of defense against her reasoning, hoping that his experience within the Council would intimidate her. But she was an unmoving wall, her eyes firmly locked on to his, not giving him any room for escape. Her father seemed to have taught her everything she needed to know about negotiation and despite Filedine being a close friend of his, Rarmankil could always counter when necessary. But Syrreth had clearly been primed for this position, battling against fellow Council members was essential in progressing their society but also left tensions high during meetings. She was ready for anything he threw at her.   
He folded his hands behind him then gave her a slow, disinclined nod.   
She smiled sympathetically, bowing her head to him rather than performing the traditional Arau farewell. His eyebrows twitched, dumbfounded by her bold gesture. She gave her back to him, delaying her steps as she exited his chambers so that he could loll in his defeat. She was correct in her previous assumptions; Rarmankil was just as weak as her father. A simple statement about the good of his tribe left him groveling at her feet, as if he had no inkling of how to help them as generations go on. Her words were simple, blunt, to the point, a child could understand what she was trying to say, and he ate it like a feast for a starving animal. He was locked in her leash the moment she had mentioned the death of her father.   
She could have said whatever she desired, she could have convinced him to allow the Arau to merge with the Tana. Or donate the resources to Enceres, keeping them ‘safe’ from the Pselus or asked for a closer relationship with the Arau leadership, allowing her full access to the tribe’s destructive issues.  
She could have even…killed him if she wanted!  
She shook her head, throwing her confident stride into a panicked step sequence. One, two, one, two, one, two. She swallowed hard, a cold breeze swimming down her sleeves and soaking into her skin, her heart dropping at an immense speed.   
Don’t think about that. Father was a mistake, it is fine for leaders to make mistakes on occasion. You are not that way. You are fine. You’ll make a great chief…they need you. They need me.   
Omiya was standing outside, waiting with a shawl over her shoulders, her delicately pointed ears red from the heat. She stood in front of a black and gold carriage, her arms were crossed, her eyelids lowered as she let out a gaping yawn, exposing her sharp fangs that never retracted. She blinked a few times, tilting a curious head at Syrreth’s unease.  
She took a step forward. “What is wrong? Did you do it?”   
Syrreth shook her head, plastering a small smile on her face as she gave a curt nod. “It was difficult, as I had predicted, but I managed to isolate both Iana and Enceres.”  
“That is more than enough. I was going to say that isolating all the islands was a…um…it would be a very...very hard thing to do, uh huh?”  
“I know, I must listen to my advisor more.”  
“Ah huh. Now, ah, would you want to meet with the other?”  
“We are having a full Council meeting soon, you contacted them, didn’t you?”  
Omiya’s eyes widened, her mind blanking on the hundreds of names that filled her brain. She raised an eyebrow, the air forming letters as she tried to decipher them before Syrreth realized that no, she most likely did not contact the other Council members.   
Did she?  
“Omiya?”  
“Hah? Yes, oh I am sorry,” She bowed. “I do not…remember…”  
Syrreth looked to the guard who simply nodded, reassuring her that all was well. She sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she let out a kind chuckle.  
“You work too hard, Miya.”  
“I do your work.”  
Syrreth cackled. “Did I not just convince the rock-headed chief that the islands should be isolated?”  
“Oh, yes, that took years of planning…”  
“I know. I planned it.” She smiled. “When we get back to Enceres, I will inform the village about the imminent evacuation and examinations.”  
“Examinations to weed out the Pselus victims?”  
Syrreth nodded, grasping the handle of the carriage door. “We will run several blood tests, children first, then the adults.”  
“Ah yes, carry on the peasant legacy.”  
“That’s very bold, Omiya, considering…”  
Omiya shrugged. “I am only speaking truth. I will not care if my children advance, I do not have a lot to bring to our world.”   
The sudden snap of the door handle made Omiya jump. She stared at Syrreth with the gold designed piece in her fist, her hair covering her face like a massive, coal curtain, her chest heaving from the energy she put in to ripping wood off its hinges. The guard stared with wide eyes before slowly stepping over to Syrreth with hovering hands.   
“Never. Say that…” She was hunched over like a nervous animal, her hair still in her face. “Please.”   
Omiya knit her eyebrows, nodding quietly. Syrreth hadn’t reacted like that since she had lost her mother so long ago. Her voice as firm as glass, a stick aimed at its very center. She used this stance to guard herself from the harsh realities of the outside, remaining sheltered in her own little world. No one could get in. She couldn’t get out. She would ensnare herself in her own mind like a hunter with its prey, clamping down on her own melancholy thoughts like a spiked metal trap. But rather than remove them from their confinement, she left them to die and rot, leaving the stench of death in the deepest forests of her brain. Omiya was well adjusted to her sudden influxes of emotion, throwing away plans and then creating new ones out of thin air then becoming frustrated when they hadn’t been what she wanted. But what she wasn’t used to was Syrreth popping at her. She rarely became this brooding shell anyway, but to see it after a simple jest was unsettling.  
“I am sorry.” She reached for the handle. “I will not say that again.”  
“Good…” Syrreth took a shaky inhale. “Good…” She placed her palm where the handle once was, glowing blue light emitting from her flesh. She slid her hand down slowly, pulling it towards her body to form a new door handle in place of the old.  
Omiya nodded, acknowledging the effort. Syrreth entered the carriage, Omiya sliding beside her then they were off. They sat in silence most of the time, Syrreth occasionally piping up to brighten the mood but Omiya simply nodded and smiled. There was an uncomfortable weight in her chest as she sat next to her friend. Her heart was beating rapidly, the insidious drumming of life beating against her bones while her eyes remained fixed on the desolate outside. There was dust for miles, the emptiness a reflection of where her mind was currently. A rarity indeed. She was filled with ideas, much like Syrreth, but there was always a cautious approach. Her ambition didn’t nag at her heart to the point that she must act out for it to be soothed. But that was because she always had time to pour it onto parchment. Syrreth was busy being the chief’s daughter and whatnot, doing her best to remain a fraudulent caricature of a princess to secure her spot on that chair. She had wanted that chair so desperately. And she had wanted Omiya to be by her side, despite it not making a difference in the long run.  
Syrreth was fine without her.  
Omiya was acquainted with the idea of isolation, indulging herself in a work that no one else would bother to do. Studying potions, spells and different forms of Arcanio was essential to the growth of this society, at least in her eyes. She was seen as the unfavorable one, the intelligent one, the advisor, by most Iseilings she had encountered. Little did they know that Syrreth was unfavorable as well. Beauty had gotten her far, her tongue a weapon of mass destruction and reconciliation through forms of diplomatic announcements and simple concepts twisted into amicable speech in order to gain what she wanted. Syrreth seemed to want it all but nothing at the same time. It confounded Omiya sometimes. She had always thought that Syrreth needed to consider consequences more. Especially now that they are on the brink of natural annihilation.  
Natural annihilation…  
Natural.  
Is Pselus natural? She pondered. Of course, it is. It is found with Arcanio.  
But is it a separate entity? She squinted her eyes, eyebrows lowering as she flipped mental pages to locate the source of this question. She had always been a thinker.   
The sky began to darken a bit, signaling a storm. She wondered if it would be dust or rain today. She shook her head, her mind hopping back to her original question. She held onto this until she saw the stoned road leading them into the citadel gates. Before the carriage had stopped, she opened the door, feet already running out as she headed for her chambers. She heard Syrreth call after her but ignored her. They would talk later.   
This was important.  
This was very important.   
She felt a drop on her scalp. It was most definitely rain today.   
The doors were already opened, the water coming down heavier as Syrreth continued to call after her. Omiya passed the guards, her boots thumping against the carpeted ground then scraping against the stone floor. Her heart began to grow cold, she didn’t run very much, her strength was in her arms and her head. She had a strong head.   
“OMIYA!” She still heard Syrreth shriek.  
A few more flights.  
Two more steps.  
Door.  
Big, old, wooden door. Tanain history was carved into its edges and seemed to seep into the old wood. Old, old wood.  
She had slowed down when she opened it, then immediately sprang into action when she saw the scrolls on her desk. She scanned through them quickly, few words at a time that didn’t give her what she needed. It was all formulas. It was all math.   
History.  
She needed history.  
She went to her books.   
Ancient books.   
Books shes read so many times.  
Books her mother stole from the library.  
Books she had stolen from the library.  
Her bookshelf was littered with tribe history, starting with the Tana, ending at the Tet. She doesn’t remember those ones, she doesn’t like people very much. Her eyes leapt from spine to spine, golden letters shining in her face every moment she had caught herself observing a spine too long. She needed to find this fast.  
Science?  
No. It had to be history.  
Her eyes hopped a shelf. Not a single book dared speak the word ‘Pselus’. It was cursed, it was a plague, it was corruption, it was everything…  
Bad.   
But if it was natural like Arcanio, like the very magic that flows through hundreds of veins on this planet, it couldn’t kill them. It shouldn’t kill them. It wasn’t like Tteip. Tteip was a substance here before the Iseilings, it came with the planet’s creation. The gods created them, so they’ve been told, and they hadn’t had the privilege of being placed on the surface of Isei before Tteip or water or fire or the dust or grass or clouds-  
Arcanio Almanac.  
The Gods’ Reward.   
No. Not those…  
Arcanio was a substance that came from the stars, it came briefly before Iseilings. Iseilings merged with it quickly and it became part of them, the ability to evolve with it was the reward the gods had given them for being so righteous. Being able to control it was their own doing. Iseilings taught themselves how to harness and control it, helping their society advance. It was dangerous, too much of anything is too dangerous, everyone knows this. Not everyone is a fool who would be willing to absorb exorbitant amounts of the magic, it was like eating too much. You can always eat too much.  
But Pselus didn’t merge with Iseilings.  
It shouldn’t, at least.  
Every Iseiling was told it was dangerous, the dark version of Arcanio that could kill you faster than an arrow to the eye. Which couldn’t kill you right away if they miss a certain part of the brain but of course there is always an exception.   
Always an exception.  
Always an exception.  
Filedine.  
Omiya slowed down, her eyes seeming to lead her to the very book she was looking for: Crystalized Conjuring and Frozen Fascination.   
Her fingers lingered over the spine, delicately touching the golden letters on the spine. She hadn’t opened this one in years. She doesn’t remember why. She removed it from its place and examined the edge of the pages. One was black.  
One was black.  
She opened to it.   
‘How to create magic from magic: a guide to Arcanio’s sister, Pselus.’  
Her eyes widened, her legs lowering her to the ground as she scanned the words on the page. She bit her lip, her mind’s race of a thousand miles slowed to about ten, nine, eight, seven…  
All the way to one.   
“Pselus is a magic manufactured, synthetically twisted by the merging of Arcanio and the essence of death. If a natural magic using Iseiling is on the verge of death, an aura is emitted, usually stemming directly from their blood. If raw Arcanio is exposed to this, it contorts into a dark, broken version of itself, just as powerful but containing the very root of the dead, hungry only for more death. It can possess its host, corrupting them or killing them.   
We don’t really know.   
We haven’t tried.  
We don’t want to die.”   
Omiya leaned back against the bookshelf, the page remaining open in front of her. She felt her mind tingling from the very sensation of education, new learning, new ideas. She licked her lips, closing her eyes and smiling. Smiling. The tingling sensation climbed up her arms, numbing her all the way down to her fingertips. Her head fell to the side, lolling to her chin, her other side then back up to center. She rubbed her arms and inhaled slowly, holding her breath until she could feel her lungs threatening to collapse.   
You ever knew what it could do to a host, because you have never tried… She opened her eyes, pulling her knee to her chest then pushing off the ground to stand. She took a vial from her small shelf. It was filled with a beige liquid. She cleared off the desk, scrolls and parchment falling onto the ground, past mistakes melting off her like wax.  
She smashed the vial onto the center of the desk, the liquid shimmering briefly before manifesting into a crinkling piece of parchment. She sat in her chair, rubbing her thumb against the top, black letters beginning to form against the paper.   
New question.  
If Pselus wasn’t natural and is as poisonous as stated, why did it kill the Arau mage and not Filedine?  
There was a loud slam behind her. It barely made her jump, she simply inhaled then turned to see Syrreth standing in the doorway with a frustrated look on her face. She had changed out of her meeting gown and into her casual one, the black one with the slit down her chest, exposing the inside of her breasts, her scales shimmering delightfully in Omiya’s minimal candle light. She had always shimmered so brightly in this room. Omiya would be jealous, her scales are dull, grey and black, the only fascinating part being her eyes, which were a deadly orange. Syrreth had gorgeous scales that danced from purple to green, her eyes a wondrous bright purple that could burn through anything that crossed her. She was so lovely.  
“Why do you ignore me?”  
“I don’t ignore you. I pay the most” Her eyes lingered to the book shelf…attention to you.”  
Syrreth stepped over, the sound of her bare feet closed Omiya’s throat, the scales beneath her hairline forming tiny beads of sweat. She knew Syrreth wouldn’t be too upset when she finds out what Omiya discovered. Not only will it surprise her, but it may get her wheels turning as well.   
Syrreth gestured at the ground. “Why did you do all that?” She poked a pile of parchment with her toe. “Did you miss a number or two?”   
“I never miss. I find other thing.”  
Her nostrils flared when Syrreth leaned over, her straight, thin hair tickling Omiya’s shoulder.  
She swallowed thickly as Syrreth’s eyes scanned the parchment, reading the work she had done so far on her sudden discovery. She saw her eyebrows knit, furrow then raise. She stood up then patted Omiya’s shoulder, walking to a seat amongst the mess.  
“Pselus? What about it? You know you can’t cure it-“  
“I am not doing that,” She turned to her in her seat. “I am trying to solve…”  
“For?”  
“The Arau. I am helping you, uh huh?”  
Syrreth pursed her lips. “Uh huh…?”  
“Your father dies because of you, uh huh? But he had…Pselus in his veins. That should have kill him firs’ yeah? According to books, yes. It kills Arau mage quickly. One day, he dead.”  
“Yes…”  
“Unless your father is not Iseiling, it should have kill him before you.”  
Eyebrows lowered, Syrreth leaned forward, eyes squinting as she stared at Omiya. “That…is true…”  
“Closing off borders is good. Contain Pselus. But what if it is not as dangerous as we tink?”  
Syrreth leaned back, eyebrows still lowered in contemplation. Her eyes never met Omiya, remaining transfixed on the floor as if that would help her answer the questions Omiya was acting. But, alas, being only stone, the floor had no answers. As well as her mind. She pouted, biting her tongue, the proper words unable to form in her mouth.  
“What if Pselus is like Tteip? It is safe for Tet and Tatur, not us or Arau. It will poison us. What if Pselus is like dat?”  
“It can poison the Arau but not the Tana?”  
“Yes!”  
“We won’t know until we test it on alive-“ Syrreth bit her lip, shoving silence into her mouth. Her eyes slowly fixed on Omiya. “Miya…”  
“I do not want to test on Iseilings yet. I want to see the substance for myself.”  
“I can’t let you do that…”  
“Nah, nah, wait!” Omiya stood, picking the book up from the ground. “It is made by our people, by Iseilings. Idiot Iseilings but still us. I must know. Then it would explain why it is in your father’s blood. Why it killed that mage…”  
“I’m already closing off the borders to prevent it from spreading to more people. Our people. People like you, who are important to me. Why would I let you get close to it?”  
“Because it did not kill your father.”  
“I know-I KILLED MY FATHER! I DID THAT!” Syrreth’s eyes began to glow threateningly. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME EVERY TIME! I DID IT, I KILLED HIM, HE’S DEAD BY MY HANDS-“  
Omiya grabbed her by the shoulders. “No shouting! Stop that!”  
Syrreth grabbed her wrists. “STOP SAYING I KILLED MY FATHER!”  
“Ayaia! Okay! I am sorry, I will not say again! Stop shouting before someone hear you!”  
Syrreth breathed heavily, facing the ground to relocate herself. She released Omiya’s wrists, arms hanging loosely at her sides. She licked her teeth, swallowed thickly then took a relaxing inhale before looking back into Omiya’s face without malice. Omiya released her shoulders and exhaled herself, a curt nod towards her friend.  
“What…is your plan…exactly?”  
“I will collect a sample. I test it there.”  
“Then I’m going with you.”  
“Now that is most dangerous.”  
“I don’t care. You’re going to need an observer, right? And…if something goes wrong, I can try to heal you.”  
Omiya waved her hand, scoffing. “Do you think so low of me?”  
“No. I think too highly of it.”  
“That is why we must do this. I am bringing clarity potions, blood and dna I have…collected.” She chuckled to herself. “And parchment. If you will help me, you will take notes. Please.”  
“I suppose I’m at your service, my friend.”  
Omiya grinned. “We will go at dusk!”  
She was thrown off when Syrreth suddenly rushed into her, her arms wrapped around her large friend in an embrace they had never shared, not even when they were children. Syrreth hugged her torso tightly, Omiya keeping her arms above the smaller body, so she wouldn’t intrude. She felt her bones vibrate in her flesh, her muscles tensing and heart racing as heat rushed to her cheeks. Her eyes pointed down at the top of Syrreth’s head, her hair sleek and shiny. She swallowed hard, unsure if she should relax her arms and accept Syrreth’s embrace or if she would be overstepping. She swallowed hard when Syrreth snuggled herself into her chest, a low murmur utters from the back of her throat, Omiya’s cheeks only getting hotter.   
She…lowered her arms. There was a surprising warmth from Syrreth’s body at the moment, despite her skin being bare in this cold chamber. Omiya squeezed a bit, Syrreth’s face still hidden in her blouse. She heard her purr again, a gentle vibration shooting through the fabric of her garment and onto her skin. She smiled a bit, an unsure whine coming from the back of her throat. She pressed her nose against the top of her head.  
Then felt Syrreth grip the back of her blouse, talons digging into it as she crumpled onto the floor in horrendously sudden tears.


	9. Continuity + Annihilation = Chaos

Omiya took a shaky inhale, folding her notes neatly before placing them in her jacket pocket. Her eyes analyzed the messy chamber she had called home for the past ten years, rubbing the tops of her hands the way her mother would to reassure her. She would often kiss Omiya’s little cheeks and nibble on her spiky ears when she was being stubborn and unreasonable, doing her best to make Omiya laugh when things were bad.   
Things were often bad nowadays.  
Too much.  
Too much bad.  
Omiya wishes she had her mother to kiss her cheeks now and tell her it would be alright.  
Maybe I will visit…before we go… She ran her tongue over one of her fangs subconsciously, eyes fixated on a single space on the floor. I know she is busy. She might be worried too. I hope she knows I’m okay. She placed her hand on the head of her desk chair, running her thumb in circles over the smooth wood.   
Omiya’s mother didn’t want her to work so close to the dangers that were threatening them. She reassured her that it wasn’t with the guard or with scouts or anything violent, it was all in the interworkings of Filedine’s citadel. She would be in one of the safest places in Isei, one of the most heavily guarded to say the very least.   
“Kochak, anything could go wrong…”  
“How do you know it will be wrong with me?”  
“It won’t be wrong with you!” She cupped Omiya’s face. “I think it will be right with you. It is just…ah…hard. Very hard. You’re my little cloud, my little star…”  
Omiya placed her hands on hers, staring up at her tall mommy with large, round eyes. “Then let me shine.”  
“I will! Just…be careful.”  
“Of what? What will attack me there?”  
“It won’t be physical, Omiya. That’s what I should have said…” She took a shakey inhale. “It will be with words. Words are dangerous. Words are-“  
“Mean.”  
“They can be.”  
“I know that for sure…”  
“Then promise me you won’t get too close. Filedine is not someone you should try to be friends with…” She snarled, eyes not meeting her daughter’s. “Be cordial, be kind, of course, but do not rely on him. You are loyal to this tribe. Not him.”  
Omiya frowned, her brain trying to wrap around that statement and find a way to hold it close to her heart. She didn’t want to let Mother down. Never. She could never let Mother down. She was a natural Arcanio user, skilled, but not high enough to be noticed. As if she would want to be. She was fine with a daughter who wasn’t a natural user or a user at all. She found herself leading Omiya around the world, traveling from island to island to show her how Arcanio worked for all Iseilings, regardless if they were natural or not. She showed Omiya ingredients, the plants that they used for food could also be used for spells, simple things like dust root, sun leaf and sky seeds could all be turned into a simple potion or spell. And it wouldn’t hurt her.   
Her first spell was with these ingredients, a basic emotion spell, fooling one of their dinner guests into thinking that she was in love with Mother. Mother blushed and waved her hands, trying to get the guest away from her and nipping at Omiya to make it stop. They laughed about it later, but she was quite upset the next morning.   
“You told me I must test my potions!”  
“Not on my guests, Kochak.”   
“You must be specific, then.”  
Mother had taught her so much about potions. She learned as much as she could being an unnatural from school, but Mother taught her the real tricks of body-less Arcanio. It couldn’t harm her because it didn’t touch her, gloves and distance between the action kept her safe.   
But now she was diving right into it.  
“You are loyal to this tribe. Not him.”   
This is what left her at a loss. Mother was never the first to jump to the regime’s defense, but she was never vehemently against it, nor did she ever show her daughter. For all Omiya had known, she was neutral on the subject, it not affecting her or her family or her work.  
Until now…  
Omiya rubbed her hands together, one folding over the other gently as her mind wanders. She never truly addressed this. She let Mother say that and never bothered to ask, by technicality, directly disobeying her orders about always asking questions and never letting someone who assumes they have power over you allow you to be a confused follower. That is the first step in the destruction of science and magic. She’s remained confused for the past eight years, locking arms with Mother many a time since that conversation, but she never bothered to ask.   
Should she bother to ask?  
Should she see Mother now that her life is actually in danger?  
She shook her head. She is not in danger. She has guards, Syrreth and her own wit to protect her from Pselus. It relies on emotion, much like Arcanio, unlike potions and spells. She will be okay. She will be okay.   
She calms herself about this situation, slowly inhaling and exhaling. An inhale is cut off as the door creaks open, the jingle of a golden guard stepping inside. They nodded at her, escorting her down the steps, through the sea of grey stone at her shoes. The red carpet was gone from a few days ago, she wouldn’t have known because she was in her chamber for most of that time. Thinking. Working. Praying. They had pulled up the carpet because they were no longer in mourning. It should be replaced when she returns. If she returns.  
She will return.  
The guard leads her to a massive carriage, the classic, dark wood was smooth to the touch, but not as smooth as the golden metal reinforcing it. There were two guards already in the front, their armor matching the carriage, hair tied in high braids, complimented by the Tanain symbol on their chest plates, providing ample aesthetic for the new chief, who was inside, picking at her talons. She gave Omiya the side eye, straightening up and waving the guard away as Omiya took her seat on the soft, violet cushion.   
“Omiya…” She leaned back in her seat, her smile begging to be on display for Omiya to see. She was dressed in layers, black long sleeves with lace ends, purple vest with golden buttons that turned into a skirt, cinched below a violet, silken trimming around her waist. Her hair was tied up for once, the thin, obsidian locks captured by a deep, red ribbon.   
“Syrreth.”  
“Is there something on your mind?”  
“Do not attempt to read my mind. Not right now.”  
“I couldn’t do it anyway,” Syrreth smirked. “But I can see it in your eyes. You’re not very happy.”  
Omiya didn’t respond.  
“We’re collecting the resources you need, isn’t that a good thing?”  
“Yes, you are very sweet, leader.”  
Syrreth cackled. “Don’t call me that. I’m still your friend.”  
Omiya pursed her lips, nodding, remembering the distress Syrreth displayed not too long ago. She was acting like everything was fine, that she hadn’t burst into tears and embraced Omiya in her chambers after discussing the very journey they were embarking on now. Omiya saw the plastic mask on Syrreth’s face, pathetically hiding the urge to sit closer to Omiya, to relive that comfort. Omiya couldn’t deny that she wanted it too. She hates to see Syrreth so overwhelmed, plagued by more diplomatic duty than ever.   
“You’re just collecting, right?”  
“Yes,” Omiya took the folded parchments from her jacket pocket, offering them to her friend. “I need you to look at these. I decide that you don’t need to take notes for me.”  
“Then why am I here?”  
Omiya swallowed thickly, feeling a hot flush of red enter her cheeks as her mind tried to form the words and deliver them to her lips. Syrreth’s natural Arcanio was all she needed for protection, flashing it in front of Pselus would temporarily stun it. In theory. But it would be better than nothing. Or maybe it was just because she wanted Syrreth there. They had never truly watched each other in action with Arcanio, usually because the time they needed to use it was in a slight crisis or an exuberant celebration. They’ve never been intimate with it.  
“Protection.”  
“Me?” Syrreth placed a feeble hand on her chest, her talons grazing the hardy black fabric.   
Omiya met her eyes, not saying anything more but giving her a curt nod. Syrreth blinked slowly, her bright pink lips pouting as she tried to form more words. Omiya’s eyes were fierce, entrapping Syrreth’s with a desperate desire, trying to locate some sort of understanding without verbal effort. Finally, Syrreth nodded, a small smile on her face as she folded her hands on her lap. Omiya cleared her throat, shifting to the side to face the window. She just wanted Syrreth there. That was all.  
Syrreth tapped on the glass of her window, signaling the guards to whip the rohses so they could be off. Omiya heard the poor animals whine then the carriage began to move. She stared at the dust moving slowly along then picking up as the animals ran faster, their journey truly beginning. She felt her heart grow cold, the thought of seeing the Onset plaguing her mind. No one was allowed there. Not even Syrreth, according to Filedine.  
“You are loyal to this tribe. Not him.” Her mother’s voice continued to ring in her head. She turned in Syrreth’s direction, studying the young chief with objective eyes. It didn’t matter that she was her friend, she was in the position Filedine used to be. Loyalty to the chair was one thing, different from loyalty to the entire tribe. Unless Mother was being specific in not being loyal to Filedine at all, but that would be insulting to Omiya. She knew better. At the time, Filedine was in the chair and now Syrreth is.  
Her teeth scraped against each other. Syrreth was doing this for the tribe, not herself but how did Omiya know that?  
Because they’ve been friends for so long. Omiya was…is her advisor and has been since they were both barely able to fly.   
But that shouldn’t matter. She was in the chair.  
What did the chair mean then? What did it mean when Mother was young? What does it mean now?  
AGHHHH!!!! She shook her head roughly. Shut up, questions, stupid questions! How dare you doubt her?! She is doing all this thing for you!   
“Miya?” Syrreth looked up from the parchment.  
“Nah, nah,” Omiya waved her hand. “I think I am full of nerves.”  
“Mm…” Syrreth nodded, her eyes lingering back to the paper. She looked so focused, her thick eyebrows furrowed as she examined Omiya’s scribbling. She was truly invested in this.   
Omiya rubbed her thighs, her hands matching the pace of the rohses’ paws beating at the dust, a burning heat appearing in her palms. She closed her eyes, doing her best to calm herself through the procedure of counting numbers. She had:  
Four days.  
One room.  
Hundreds of scrolls.  
She used fifteen.  
Or was it seven?  
It was fifteen, she threw some away.  
Fifteen scrolls.  
One book.  
That book.  
To solve one thought.  
Is Pselus natural?  
She learned that no, it isn’t. It was created by Iseilings for some foolish reason.   
Or it was an accident.  
No one knows.  
She wants to know. She will know-  
Omiya was suddenly launched forward, smacking her face into the wall, Syrreth yelping as the carriage began to tumble through the dust. They were tossed around like dice in a cup, guards yelling, the rohses growling and roaring as the sound of wood and metal crashed against the suddenly sloping ground. A sinkhole had appeared just below them, Omiya suddenly remembering just where the Onset was located. The Barelands were filled with shit like this, the god’s little playground for mischief and screwing over traveling Iseilings.   
She tried to catch her breath as she ran into every wall, her arms outstretched to at least attempt to balance herself. She smacked her head against the ceiling, an unapologetic thunk resonating through the carriage, even Syrreth gasping at the sound. Omiya pulled herself into a fetal position, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t going to risk a potion, that would be a waste and also a lot of glass. A lot of glass. Omiya appreciates her sight very much. She could wait it out in this position, protecting her body until they die from the impact under the planet. She couldn’t even do a simple spell because she had given the parchment to.  
Syrreth.  
To Syrreth.  
“Syrreth!” Her calls were a bit muffled. “Syrreth! Syrreth listen!”  
“What?!” Syrreth shrieked, clearly unamused with the current situation.  
“Use-!” She was tousled around a bit more. “Use spell! Use a spell!” She heard a large crack from the wood. “USE A SPELL!!!!”  
Syrreth growled, pressing her hands against the window, the glass melting in an instant. She climbed out of the carriage, her skirt flapping in the wind.  
“I said spell…” Omiya muttered. “I said spell!!!!”  
“Patience is a virtue!” Syrreth barked.   
Omiya felt panic rising in her chest, her mind racing thousands of miles per hour but not in the fun way. It was screaming random thoughts at her, incoherent yelling coming from both her own mind and the poor guards outside, not to mention the poor creatures falling to their doom as well. She shook her head, trying to land her thoughts on something, someone, anything so that she wouldn’t have the dreaded breakdown of death, where everything flashes before her in a series of heavy breaths, tears and screaming.  
She was already screaming.  
She hadn’t even felt her jaw fall open to allow this noise out. She flapped her hands, panting each time she stalled her yelling, the screams beginning again when the carriage became darker and darker. They only fell deeper into the hole. Her breath became shallow, the pants threatening to close her lungs with each pathetic exhale. She should have asked Syrreth if they could visit her mother first, what will she think when she finds out her daughter died in a hole? A hole?! She would be devastated, she would be heartbroken, she would be pissed. The little one she held so close to her heart, the one she lost her husband for, the one she trained to become a sensational mage like he was, the only one she had to love now that he was gone. Omiya fought the burning sensation of tears behind her eyes, the wind assisting in the effort to make her cry. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to die.  
I’m going to die. She screamed louder, finally the sound penetrating through the guards’ and the rohses’, Syrreth’s voice nowhere to be found. She was probably dead. Or she flew off, like her father would. She could have easily flown off…  
Another scream was choked, gravity stalling it as Omiya slammed into the floor. She closed her eyes tight, forcing her brain to accept death until she realized that she could still smell the freshly polished wood and boot marks she had left earlier. She refused to move from her spot but opened her eyes. It was still dark, but the carriage was now stable. They were stable.  
The carriage began to float up.  
Omiya moved onto her back, laying a hand on her chest as the carriage’s colors became more prominent by the light of a moon. Her eyes strained, pained by the shape they were in from the pure shock that rang through her face. The carriage rocked a bit but was able to hold them all for the most part, just until they reached land again. She heard the wood creak, shocked silence washing over everyone on the vehicle, Omiya’s heart hammering against her ribs as she waited anxiously for solid ground again.   
The carriage groaned, the crunchy sound of dust under its wheels was music to her ears. She sat up just in time to see Syrreth land in the dust, her giant, leathery wings exposed. She dusted off her skirt and began to readjust her hair until she saw Omiya still sitting there. She sauntered towards the door, opening it with ease and tilting her head.  
“Are you alright?” Her voice was sweet, the sweetest thing Omiya had ever heard.   
Omiya didn’t respond. She stumbled out of the carriage and into the dust, Syrreth moving quickly to catch her. Omiya waved her away, her hands running through the dust and rocks before she placed her forehead on the ground. She muttered a small prayer to Hart and Tlea, thanking them for another chance at life.  
“They did nothing except watch me perform that spell correctly,” Syrreth went back to fixing her hair. “If anyone should be thanked it should be Nepe, they were the one who did the most.”  
“I do not want to get into debate right now…” Omiya finally spoke, exasperated. She dragged herself over to Syrreth’s feet then hugged her legs. “You…saved us…”  
“I wasn’t going to let you die,” Syrreth rubbed Omiya’s head, her gentle fingers running against her short hair. “The gods gave me this gift for a reason. It was you who actually made me get up and use it. If it wasn’t for you, we would have died.”  
Omiya looked up at her with saucer eyes, nearly shining with tears. Syrreth’s face was completely serious, stone-cold even. She knew what she had done, and she was thanking Omiya for helping her perform it. Omiya swallowed hard, getting back on her feet and dusting off her trousers. They stared at one another for a moment, Omiya’s heart swelling with gratitude, her eyes doing their best to articulate that to Syrreth.   
“Thank you…my chief.” Omiya lowered her head, her eyes closing gently.   
She heard Syrreth scoff then place her hand on her shoulder. Omiya lifted her head up to face her again, Syrreth using her thumb and first finger to secure Omiya’s chin in her other hand. She saw the young chief grin when the redness began to infiltrate her cheeks again. Her teeth were flat, straight and plain, gazing at them subconsciously caused Omiya’s tongue to run over her own to feel the jagged, uneven fangs that reside in her mouth.  
Syrreth squinted her eyes as if her mind was reanalyzing Omiya, reforming the opinion she had from ten years ago into a more appropriate mold, fitting the now. There hasn’t been a time since Syrreth truly gazed at her friend, not since they were little. Her eyes hopped around every feature of Omiya’s face, capturing each detail like a serpent with prey. Omiya saw her kerfluster then swallow thickly. She pursed her lips, hiding away her toothy smile, and released Omiya’s chin, stepping back.  
“Rise,” Omiya felt her cheeks cool off, the redness transferring to Syrreth’s now. “Let’s go.” She passed her friend, swiftly moving towards the guards as she dusted off her clothes.   
Omiya watched her take long strides, quickly getting far away. She felt her throat close up, nerves getting the best of her. Did she do something wrong? Or was this a personal tension Syrreth had never confided in her about?   
She shook her head.   
It was okay. Everything was okay now. 

 

The sun had left them completely by the time they had reached the Onset, an unsettling aura running through the nightly breeze. Omiya turned her head slowly, her eyes trying to catch something of interest. She saw the guards were no longer shaken, nor was Syrreth in an emotionally distant state. She stood next to Omiya with pride, her head held up like she had been taught.   
As they walked, they spoke of most ordinary things, the night breeze barely bothering them at all. They talked of home things, food, culture, the excitement Syrreth held for the future of their tribe was obvious in her eyes. Omiya proudly made Syrreth snicker more than once tonight, a shot of confidence entering her heart when hearing the pleasant sound.   
Their chatting came to a halt, the air becoming stiff with an unexplainable force that dragged all of them to silence, even the guards. Omiya didn’t recognize the heavy, bitter incense that pierced the air molecules, she couldn’t deny that she had smelled worse aromas in her lifetime, but she also couldn’t deny that this was in her top fifty list of the worst smells to enter her airways. It burned the fine hairs in her nose, outside of her nose and she swore she saw some eyebrow hairs gently float into the dust.   
She stopped in her tracks, eyes scanning the area for any issues. Syrreth was a few steps forward but turned when she noticed Omiya wasn’t exactly by her side. Omiya gestured for her to come closer.  
“I have to ask…” She inhaled shakily. “Do you still have the blood shard you made?”  
“What blood shard?”  
“The one…” She leaned forward. “You made with your father’s blood?”  
“Oh.” Syrreth held up an open palm, the shard appearing in her hand with a flash of blue. She offered it to Omiya, allowing it to roll into her hand. Omiya held it in both of her cupped hands, having to keep them close to one another to prevent herself from dropping the shard on the ground. She closed her fists around them then nodded, handing it back to Syrreth.  
Syrreth raised an eyebrow. “Why?”  
“I can make a proper weapon for you, but I need to test the Pselus with it first, okay?” She cleared her throat. “For now, put a holding spell on it so it will not fall apart, uh huh?”  
Syrreth nodded, relaxing her arm with the shard in her fist. Omiya moved quickly ahead of her, her pace increasing as she felt the aura of the region becoming more unsettling. They were close to the Onset and the Pselus was getting unruly.   
Perfect.  
She moved ahead of the guards, the clank and jingle of their armor wasn’t too far behind her. The disturbing scent only got worse the closer they got, Omiya pulling up part of her jacket to wipe her eyes and cover her nostrils.  
Her shoes scraped against the dust, thin clouds picking up. The guards and Syrreth stood by her side, stopping in their tracks as well as they gazed at the Onset.  
Or at least what was left.  
They were about six feet from where the Onset would be, but it was already overflowing with the raw, gooey, bubbling magic. It slunk near Omiya’s shoes and she took a step back. The guards moved in front of Syrreth, but she hissed at them, refusing their protection.   
“This…this is impossible…” Omiya shook her head. “It has not been that long…has it?” She shook her head, gazing at the ground and stepping back whenever the Pselus came too close.   
It is moving quick. She bit her lip. Too quick. This is no good. She looked to Syrreth, whose eyebrows had descended into a disgusted gaze as her eyes examined the substance before them.   
Syrreth whipped her head to the guards. “What is this?!”  
“No guards were assigned here, my chief.”  
“That can’t be. Pselus can only create more if there is blood availa-“ She gasped, cutting herself off. She placed her hand over her mouth, her eyes dancing around with realization.   
Omiya swallowed hard, her mind putting the pieces in place as well. There was so much because it had leaked after centuries of being kept in check, yes, but it cannot create itself out of thin air. It needed blood of dying Iseilings. Pselus can already kill Iseilings with enough, so if there were once guards posted out here…  
Omiya snapped out of her thoughts when she heard a guard grunt, the sound of metal clanking against dirt following. Syrreth held down one of her guards, the shard Omiya had returned to her held over their neck. She was breathing heavily out of her mouth, every one of her teeth sharpened to their purest form, her pupils disappearing under the bright, violet light that had overtaken her eyes. The other guard didn’t move from his spot, holding his position with shaking eyes that knew if he tried to interfere, he’d be ripped to shreds first.  
“Why didn’t my father send any one out here?!” Her voice had deepened into a growling hiss, the echoes of the voice Omiya knew hidden behind.   
“I-I don’t know! My chief-I-!”  
“Tell me!”   
“I don’t know!”  
“Stop LYING-!” She rose her shard.  
Omiya heard the Pselus groan, the bubbling only becoming elated at Syrreth’s distress. She lowered her eyebrows then looked back to Syrreth, simple pieces clicking into place. She walked towards Syrreth and snatched the shard out of her hand, placing the end of it into the substance. Syrreth whipped her head towards Omiya now, her eyes returning to a calmer state and her fangs retracting.  
“What are you-?!”  
The Pselus shrieked with hysterical enthusiasm, the end of the shard melting into the magic as it consumed the blood, moving rapidly towards Omiya’s hand. Omiya fell backwards, only a small piece of the blood shard broken off in her hand. Her eyes widened as she began backing up quickly as the slow-moving Pselus grew a bit more, the shard satisfying its blood craving before shooting its way towards Omiya. She scrambled to her feet and ran in the other direction, reaching in her pockets for the spell parchment.  
Oh wait.  
She ducked when the Pselus lunged at her head, her boots scraping against the dust as she slid. Her breath was heavy as she tried to find a place to hide but they were in the Barelands. It’s called that for a reason. She found herself ducking again, staying low to the ground so it couldn’t lunge at her, but this only made it lay flat and slink towards her that way. She crawled towards Syrreth, who yanked her up and moved her behind her. She pulled out the parchment, handing it to Omiya as she stood against the substance. She inhaled then blew out a bit of fire, startling the alive substance enough to cause it to retreat a bit.  
It shrieked again, the sound piercing Syrreth’s sharp ears as Omiya’s hands fumbled with the parchment. Syrreth stepped back, watching the Pselus grow in size, heaving and bloating until it was high above them in a wall of its own body. Syrreth guarded Omiya in this defensive position, standing her ground but feeling a sense of worry when the seconds ticked on.   
When Omiya finally opened the parchment, she heard the roaring sound of the Pselus descending on them. She read the scripture out loud as quickly as she could, shouting over the roaring danger before she decided to guard her face. Syrreth stood against it, her arms at her side and head held high. It consumed them in a dark mass, Omiya’s eyesight going completely black.  
She patiently waited to hear the sound of Hart’s voice, delicately leading her soul to her next journey. She waited to see her mother and father when they were happiest, hoping the last thing she would remember would be them. She felt a cold hand on her arm and she opened her eyes to the inky blackness. Syrreth was right under Omiya’s nose, if she moved any closer, she would’ve fallen over. She wasn’t looking at Omiya, her eyes fixated on the inky black above, Omiya following suit.   
They were fine. The Pselus was high above, about a story or two, cascading over them in a slow wave. Omiya stared at Syrreth who was still in her determined pose, refusing to move any more than she already had. She stared at the Pselus trapped against this clear wall of nothingness, trying to locate why they weren’t being swallowed at this very moment. She placed her hand on Syrreth’s, causing her to turn and gaze at her. Syrreth was breathing heavily, the energy draining from her eyes at a rapid pace.  
“We are…okay…” She exhaled. “We are okay…uh huh?”  
Syrreth nodded. “Uh huh…” She removed her hand from Omiya, turning towards her. The quick sound of a snap and a hiss filled their ears, the Pselus falling back onto the ground. Syrreth turned back in her position and it froze again.   
“Oh praka!” Syrreth growled, clenching her fists as she gazed up at the substance.   
Omiya’s mouth fell open slightly, her eyebrows reading bewilderment at the situation at hand. She wondered if she could ever relax today, referring to the near-death experiences she’s been so hilariously thrown into by the gods. She inhaled, exhaled then stepped in front of Syrreth, the Pselus beginning to descend onto the ground again. She moved to the side, unblocking her friend and it froze again. She looked to Syrreth, then the wall of death before them, then where the guards were once standing.   
This is going to be stupid. Very stupid. She looked at the broken blood shard in her hand, its surface glimmering despite the darkness. She groaned and shook her head. Very stupid…  
“My chief…” She mumbled, holding the blood shard out to her friend. “I ask you to protect me, uh huh?”  
Syrreth nodded, eyes hopping from the shard to Omiya.  
“Then…” Omiya inhaled, her chest shaking as she spoke. “Fulfill…your duty.” They locked eyes for a moment, but Omiya quickly broke it when she realized that they might never be able to do this again.   
With that she turned and sprinted towards the Pselus, her teeth gritted in terror as she managed to pass through it without an issue. Syrreth was about four feet behind her, still relatively close but far enough that the Pselus didn’t think she was being blocked. Its walls dipped and caved in towards Omiya but was lifted again when Syrreth was in its vicinity. It melted and dripped all around them, never getting close enough to touch their flesh.   
Omiya sprinted faster, Syrreth right behind her as they passed through the massive glob of destruction. Syrreth was using a guarding spell, one that managed to be strong enough to keep them safe from harm, as long as Omiya was near Syrreth. But the Pselus could easily break through it, if they hadn’t started moving the substance would have begun to weigh down on them, wasting Syrreth’s energy and busting the guard. Omiya used herself as bait to prevent the substance from swallowing Syrreth, her alive blood was much more interesting than the shard.   
She felt a temporary breeze beside her, Syrreth passing her with unmatchable speed. She slid onto her side, staying crouched and clapped to make Omiya run faster. Omiya smelled the concentrated Pselus, the sickly thick drops falling near her heels. Syrreth held out her hand, the open space she had beginning to fill with the raw magic. Her energy was waning.   
Omiya reached out her hand, eyes locked with Syrreth’s again. Their hands clasped together, Syrreth pulling Omiya to her chest. Omiya smelled the sweet scent of her skin, her eyes gentle, no longer in fear of what would happen now. She held Syrreth’s warm hand to her chest, her face relaxing by the heat of her breath. She didn’t want to let go. She couldn’t let go. She felt Syrreth squeeze her hand before showing her that delightfully somber smile as she pushed Omiya away and into the Pselus free area. Omiya’s arms were still outstretched for her friend as she fell backwards into the dust, her feet unable to balance properly. The guards ran to her sides, watching the Pselus close completely on Syrreth.  
She scrambled up, trying to run towards it but the guards held her back, one holding her arms and the other with a hand on her sternum. She felt ice form in her chest, freezing liquid falling all the way down into her stomach lining, absorbing into her blood. She clenched her fists, her spell parchment still in hand as her throat tightened, sobs scraping at her esophagus, begging for freedom. She fell to her knees, the dust picking up a bit as hot tears filled her eyes. She lowered her head to the dust to shield herself from the humiliation of crying in front of the citadel guard, her heart filling with guilt and grief for her lost friend. Her inhales shook her to her very core, but her exhales were mere whimpers that barely shifted the dust. She muttered nonsense words into the ground, hoping something would hear. The sound of the night breeze was rightfully muffled by her strong arms, the tips of her ears flaming with the strain of holding back her sobs, the back of her eyes pained by her efforts.  
She felt one of the guards place a hand on her shoulder, trying to tell her to get up but she refused. She refused. All she wanted was to collect the chaotic magic, not test it yet. Filedine didn’t die from that small amount in his blood while that Arau mage did. But what would happen to an Iseiling in the Tana tribe if she was utterly consumed by the substance? Would they die instantly? Would it be slow? Would at some point, in this hour, on this night, would Omiya hear the screams of her dear friend being swallowed by the very twisted experiment she was meant to perform? Would they later locate her bones after they stop this threat and clean up the damage? Could they stop this threat?   
How long would it take?  
Who else would it take?   
Was any of this even probable? How could she have known that the magic would be so alive and threatening, actively moving on its own to consume, consume, consume until there is nothing left. That is all it was built to do. Yet, she finds herself wondering if that is all it can do when attached to a host. Her scrolls tell her that it was meant to destroy, consume and corrupt. But all it is doing is consuming. It consumed a perfectly capable host, right in front of her very eyes, despite Syrreth’s impeccable display of Arcanio control.  
“Omiya!” She jumped at the sound of her voice, looking around for the source. She heard the jingle of the guards as they sprinted back towards the Pselus, the sloshing sound of it sending a shiver up Omiya’s spine.  
Her eyes widened to see them pull out her friend, perfectly unharmed by the substance. Her skin was clear, her dress was fine, her hair was loose, but she was the same as when she was swallowed by it. She paced towards Omiya quickly, Omiya sliding backwards as she gazed wide-eyed at this miracle.  
“It did nothing!” Syrreth laughed, her face gleaming in amazement. “Look at me, I’m perfectly alive!” She held her arms up and spun around for Omiya, her dress swirling in its lovely purple color.   
“How?” Was the only word that filtered from Omiya’s lips.  
“I don’t know!” Syrreth said cheerfully. “But it didn’t kill me! It just held me for a few moments then retreated.”  
Omiya frowned. She stepped closer to her friend, holding her wrists and running her fingers along her skin, sending a flush throughout Syrreth’s face. She squinted her eyes tight at it, no signs of damage or burns or any magical markings.  
“Ah…” Syrreth cleared her throat. “Isn’t this good?”  
“How is it good?” Omiya continued to analyze her friend, getting close to her face and examining her eyes.   
“That means your hypothesis was right! Pselus is like Tteip. It’s only poisonous to certain Iseilings!”   
Omiya shook her head. “It could still be certain people…your father was-“  
“Oh, let me show you-!” Syrreth pulled out the blood shard. Or at least what was the blood shard. She held a red dagger in her hand, the blade created completely from the blood of her father and the hilt a dark black with a purple diamond in the center.   
“It did this?!” Omiya perked up, snatching the weapon from Syrreth’s hand. The hilt was smooth, a matte finish that could only be created in the mountains of Aralat, far from where the Tanain citadel resides. She rubbed her thumb over the purple diamond: it was uncracked and shining. You could see right through the blade as well, as if it had just been polished. Omiya shook her head, a smile crawling on her lips. “I…this is…”   
She inhaled and fell to her knees, causing Syrreth to jump. She held the blade up with both hands, offering it to her friend. Syrreth stood and stared at her, taking a slow inhale as she reached for the blade. The hilt fit perfectly in her hand.  
Omiya stood. “My…experiment is not complete. I will need to test the Pselus. I still need to on…on objects such as these and other Iseil-“ She bit her tongue, swallowing hard. She lowered her head to her friend. “Please, Syrreth. Allow me…to try to, ah…measure what…your father had in his blood. I want to…use it…”  
“Are you…?” Syrreth raised an eyebrow. She gazed at her friend, trying to place the pieces together. She sighed, pursing her lips then nodding. “You may. I will also…find someone for you.”  
Omiya stood up. “I do not wish to intrude on your plan. But it is better I used a volunteer rather than someone as important as you, my quee-“ She bit her tongue, hearing the squinch of flesh under her sharp teeth.   
Syrreth smiled, waving her hand before folding both in front of her. She leaned forward. “Don’t be nervous, Miya. I’m fine with it…” She peered to the side, eyeing the guards. “In fact, I actually like that better.”


	10. Resurgence

“Eight years…” LoTe scoffed. “Eight bloody years…” He took a shaky inhale, swallowing hard as he clenched his fists, gazing down at the ditch in the sand. One eye lagging behind the other as he blinked, eyelashes sticking together from his dried tears. A shivering arm reached out for the golden memorial, fresh flowers painting the beige ground where his lover lay, a series of oranges and reds that would make him gag at the sight. Anhe always wanted to be different. He would argue for purple or blue flowers, vibrant enough to make his grave be the best looking on the island.   
LoTe smiled sorrowfully, a small breeze escaping from his nose as he came up with imaginary debates that he would never experience again. It had been eight years since he was able to tease that ridiculous man, eight years since he had snapped at him for not resting and eight years since they had all gone out as a family, without the fear of Anhe collapsing from his illness. He ran his hands over the edge of the ditch until they rested perfectly, palms filled with the dust and sand that surrounded their tiny castle. He smiled again, the edges of his mouth quivering as he aimed his head towards the sky, the warm breeze dancing around his nostrils. He gripped the hole tighter when he heard himself whimper, breaking the stone-cold dam he kept up so no one would see his discomposure. He wanted to feel a warm glow around him, he wanted to believe Anhe was still here, just hiding from him with a stupid magic trick and this was all just a wondrously cruel jest he was playing for eight. Bloody. Years.  
He opened his eyes to the stars. They were all so perfectly driftless, stuck in the sky by what Anhe and Ane called the “gods”. An admirable showcase of the anonymous ruler of the universe, if they even existed. LoTe didn’t know. He relied on science, the wind, things he could actually touch and see and analyze, not some unknown force that could smite him if they so please. LoTe found it hard to believe the world he lived in, all but a few Iseilings seemed to come to an agreement that there were four gods past the universe, past the blanket of the night sky, watching them from a sanctuary you cannot see until you’re dead in the ground. They were all fools for that. How could they be so blind as to believe whatever the ancients told them?   
But he wondered if Anhe was up there, with the gods he had believed in. Part of him was hoping so. Anhe was too genuine to not deserve whatever they gave you if you were deemed worthy. The gods had given Anhe a purpose, rather than thousands of questions to answer. He had accepted what had been handed to him and what had been handed to his family and he handed it to his. He had allowed himself to be oblivious to what blackness the universe might hold. LoTe couldn’t help but see right through it. It was a challenge for him not to see the blackness, Anhe teasing him for the unnecessary angst he snuck into their conversations. He wasn’t used to someone laughing with him so offhandedly, the strain of socialization easing off his shoulders whenever he heard that man laugh. He expected Anhe to be stiff in the neck, harsh towards LoTe and other Tet. But he was sorely mistaken, this was something Anhe teased him about years later. They would hold these easy, debatable conversations, ones that would spark outrage at a family dinner table. Anhe even tried his best to convince LoTe that the gods weren’t all that cruel or benevolent. They were just there. But LoTe told him that would take years of work to convince him.  
“I’d be willing to spend years with you.”   
LoTe gripped his face, his nails digging into his hairline. He inhaled shakily, letting out a weak yelp of agony. The stars felt warmer when he wasn’t facing them. He exhaled again, his breath shifting the flowers a bit, a petal lifting to reveal a few symbols etched into the ground. He leaned over, lifting the flower to see it fully, dropping it in disgust as he realized it was a small protection sigil. He hadn’t seen symbols like that in quite a while. After losing Anhe, the very thought of magic sent ice through his veins. That was everything Anhe had lived for. He devoted himself completely to a practice that would in the end, destroy him, boiling him from the inside out until his lungs no longer functioned and his limbs could no longer carry him. He listened to no one about the dangers of Arcanio, not even LoTe. And LoTe would yell, beg and ignore him until he gave it up, but he never did. LoTe knew it would be his downfall, but it hadn’t taken him yet. The fire within him supplied enough energy for him to continue, to help the village and even the entire island more than once. This was his legacy.   
And he had handed it to Anessimbery. She was all he had left to continue it, but LoTe…couldn’t…  
A slam behind him, snatching his soaked body from the sea of memory. He turned to see her standing there, her father’s staff in hand, dragging in the dust as she approached. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun, squeezing it down to less than half of its original size, opening her face to the nightly air. Her skin was marked up by streaks of filth, the dust sticking and smearing from her sweat, but leaving the metal vest armor unmarked. She had just returned from the training ground. She dropped the staff on the ground with a clang, taking her time to reach LoTe’s level. She held her hand in front of him, palm facing, and he did the same. They gently touched hands.  
“I would appreciate it greatly if you didn’t bash our doors about,” He reprimanded. “Unless you plan to be the one to fix them.”  
“I’m sorry, Te-Te,” She lifted their hands up and down, playing a bit. “I was excited to see you.”  
“I know, yashan. But our home is as delicate as your heart.”  
“Nah, nah-“  
“I’m being serious, darling. You haven’t been well.”  
Anessimbery avoided his gaze, her eyes inspecting the dirt between their knees. The pebbles and dust had shifted with each breath from her wide nose. She felt LoTe’s hair tickle her skin, nerves shooting up her cranium as she prevented her eyes from seeing his.   
“Yashan…”  
“Neither have you.”  
He leaned back and sighed. “I don’t want an argument tonight.”  
“Neither do I.”  
“Then will you please stop being so stubborn and talk to your father? I don’t want you to do something reckless,” He shook his head, slowly. “It’s already difficult enough with you hiding in your room all day.”  
“I’m sorry, Te-Te.” She wrapped her hand around his. “I just don’t like it when you’re upset.”  
“I’m always upset about something or other,” His other hand embraced hers, clasping both hands and squeezing tight. “But I am here. And you’ve been a bit unstable.” He saw her lip twitch. “Is it something I can help with?”  
“No…”  
“Are you sure?” He cleared his throat. “You know you used to be quite fond of me,” He chuckled. “You’d tell me everythin’…”  
“You’re going to be upset with me! This isn’t something we’ve resolved, this isn’t about…Papa…” She swallowed thickly. “It is Arcanio. I want to use Arcanio again.”  
LoTe felt the urge to pull his hands from her, but his heart refused. His lips flattened into a sharp line, his eyes falling away from hers as he inhaled through his nostrils, the scent of nature entering his lungs. He felt a pit open in his stomach, his mind filling with the fear he once had about this moment. Of all days, any other day she could’ve asked for this, but she had to choose the day Anhe died. She knew damn well he would be vulnerable at this point, that his mind wouldn’t be clear, and his heart would be delicate, so she jumped at the opportunity like a shark. Words seemed to fail him as he shook his head a bit, gentle, quick motions that didn’t signal anything to Anessimbery just yet. He had partially himself to blame for this. She loved Arcanio, a few years before Anhe died, she had asked to be trained with it, that’s when he first met Soyahe.   
Soyahe…  
“I understand you’re hurting, you’re both searching for something to blame but please, LoTe don’t take this from her!” Their voice rang in his mind. He refused them again and again. They even went as far as coming to their home every night to try and convince them. They kept telling LoTe that it was part of her, she used it even when LoTe asked her to set the table. He couldn’t deny her talent with it, no matter how much pain it had caused their family.  
“Nah, nah…” His head froze, centered. “Nah, nah…”  
He heard the saliva slink down her throat, her mind snapping behind her eyes. Her citrine eyes. They were…still that way. Even after Anhe’s funeral. They brought warmth to every room when she smiled but shot daggers whenever she was trapped in a state of despair or rage. He didn’t even bother to ask, not even Soyahe. He decided for himself that it was the Arcanio feeding off her precious mind and using her emotions like a paint brush, remolding the little one he had fallen in love with. The baby cheeks he kissed were now cratered with exposure, her eyes sunken and exhausted from the mere struggle of existence, her hands calloused from gripping the hilt of her blades and the base of her staff. She proudly displayed her bravura in front of all who saw the mage’s daughter walking through the market. Change was but a mere fact of life, at least that’s what she s   
“I’m sorry, love, I-“ She stood and dusted off her garments before heading back into the house. He sat there dumbfounded, his hands slightly opened to where hers once rested, the air warm from her lingering presence. He nodded, exhaling slowly through the slit between his lips as his heart made its descent into his gut. His body grew cold, the mundane blood in his veins turning to crisp ice as the midnight winds wrapped around him like a desperately unwanted blanket. She was everything he had now. He was grown to be a lover of the world he was born into, his people filled with fire and hope, but he found himself resenting it as his years were stolen from him. His people smiled as they starved, laughed as they perished and only continued to create as they shrunk into non-existence. The other tribes had tried so desperately to rid themselves of this burden that was the entirety of his race. He had watched children be lost to the Tteip and the sea, fathers hiding their pain through the mask of a grin as they spoke to anyone who would listen. He had become a scout only hoping that the nightmarish debt of life would erase him faster. Time smushed and tore itself apart, the concept of being only a distant dream as he marched with the other young Tet beside him. Hours passed, then days, then months, the next instance he finds himself in is another Creation Day, where the young Iseilings were told to begin their destinies whilst he stood at attention with none in sight.   
Then the Council spoke of peace. As elusive as that dream was, LoTe felt it in the air, anxieties drowning him in the night as he awaited the dreaded news of being discharged. Part of him wished he could pray whilst the other told him to shut up and just sleep. Just sleep and allow the hours to bleed past like a sudden slice to the throat. He marched in time, with Time as the days went by. Then he was sent to Iana. Then he guarded their borders for a moment before seeing one of the last Arau mages on the island. Time slowed his deadly march.   
He had a purpose. And he held onto it like a starving animal. Anhe and Ane were all for him, his reason for marching with Time. But now it was with pride. He learned how to be more than a lover. He learned to be a father.  
All he has known for the past sixteen years is how to be a father.  
Ane slammed her door shut, removing her blades from their sheiths and throwing them into the wall over her bed. She clumsily removed her chest plate and othe armor before falling face first into the lumpy fabric, pulling her self towards her cushion and screaming into it. It wreaked of old naps and storytime. Her shoulders covered her ears, her entire body trying to cave in on itself, searching for warm comfort. Her fingernails dug into the cushion as she lifted her head, eyes locked on the wall in front of her. She wanted to scream again so Father could hear but that would be indecent and “just plain rude.” She rolled over, another shriek of defiance grumbling in the back of her throat but she restrained herself, sitting up and staring at the door. She squinted suspiciously at it, her eyes trying to read the symbols she had scratched in, making out unreadable Arcanio sigils. She muttered a quick spell under her breath, but none sparkled to life. This pissed her off again and she threw her cushion at the door, flopping back down on her bed.   
He was being absolutely ridiculous. He knew he was being absolutely ridiculous, yet he continued to put in an effort to be absolutely ridiculous even though he was aware that whenever he was being absolutely ridiculous it pissed her off. She was still young, this was still her time and he was restraining that time as much as he could. He may have been right about Ane’s tendency to be ‘unstable’ but that is exactly why she needs to be able to let out her rage in a form other than physical fighting. She wasn’t even allowed to hit people. And she desperately wanted to. Wanted to strike fear into her opponent and make them pay for all the wrongs they weren’t even aware of. Her heart began to beat at her chest, causing her to beat back with her hands, restraining her breath even further. She growled and kicked, grunting the Arau-way to release the tightness within her.  
She sat up again, feet slapping on the wooden floor as she lifted herself and began to pace around her room, grunting and calling as if she was at a greeting with a member of the Tet tribe. They grunted a lot more than the Arau did. Which was more fun, of course, but she had never interacted with many of them because Father adored hiding his culture away from her, so she doesn’t have to live with the shame-!  
She paused, faced the ceiling and yelled gutturally, a deep noise only rising in octave until it reached the top of her throat. She panted heavily and waited for Father to call her or the wary creak of the door, his voice swimming towards her in a hushed but irritated tone. She clenched her fists, waiting, listening to his steps throughout the home but none towards her. When she heard a door close, her fingertips buzzed in victory and her head whipped her around, her legs giving way to her knees. Her hands laid flat on the floor, the squeak of her skin skidding against the wood as they pulled her forward. She excitedly dug through the underside of her bed until she felt a pile of parchment, her hands seeming to slow as she pinched the edges. The parchment was soft and old, worn from Ane’s consistent checking and rechecking when she practiced these spells.   
Her eyebrows sank with her heart as she read the old scribbles from Soyahe. These were all basic spells, ones she needed to learn in order to practice the advanced ones. Causing a small flame, gravitational rebellion spells, aura reading, it all brought a gorgeous sense of nostaligic confidence to Ane. She smiled at her old handwriting, her little hands working as fast as they could against Soyahe’s as they practiced reciting spells together. These were probably what she was trying to carve on the door. She folded the parchment up gently, stretching out her legs. She held out a palm, summoning a small flame in the center, allowing it to dance for a few moments before surrounding it with her breath. It laid flat in her hand before popping back up, a soft face blinking at her with big eyes. The flat of her first finger patted the creature’s head and it squeaked, her heart filling with joy. She still had it. Regardless of the suppression, her hands were still her greatest Arcanio filter. Her new friend dashed up her arm and rested on her shoulder, nuzzling against her sun-blessed skin.  
She sighed, a finger reaching for her little friend’s head. She gave them a good pat, allowing them to lick her fingernail. She wished Soyahe could see what she could do now, all from a few readings in a single scroll! If Soyahe saw her now, they’d be floored, they’d probably even flip in the dinner room and tick off Father. She smiled at that thought, her eyes drifting towards the blades she stuck in her wall. Father…  
He didn’t even sparr with her anymore. The few months after Papa died, he told her he was too exhausted, his heart was aching and all of the above. She would nudge him, offer for it to be magic-free, she even went as far as to telling him she would let him win. She could tolerate the silent dinners or the solemn good nights. She was fine with him stopping her in her determined journeys through the house and holding her face, soaking in every feature, ending with a kiss on her nose. But the house became grey the day he hung up his blade, placing it on the mantel just above the fire pit. Ane felt her throat close at the memory, recalling that same day when she gave up on trying to bring him back. It was as if he had laid himself in the grave with Papa, his mind wallowing in his sorrow, soaking in every drop of despair as he evoked hundreds of memories of Papa. She wanted to resent him for it, direct the bitterness towards his permanent love rather than at the true source of their pain. She tried to shut him out whenever he tried, giving him a taste of his own medicine, hiding herself away in her room or at the training ground where she practiced fighting. The Tet way. It was another statement of her defiance, Father would hate to know that she was learning to fight like him. But was it her spitefulness or the burning desperation to have some sort of familiarity?  
Her head shuttered when she heard a small shriek, glancing down at the source. Her little friend had accidently suffocated themselves under her pant leg, steam rising from her garments as she let out another sigh. She stood and wiped the soot from her pants, sitting back on the bed. She inhaled slowly, her head resting in the cup her hands had created, her mind settling from its previous animosity into a state of lethargy.   
She had ripped those wooden dolls to pieces with her blades, her slices cruel and coordinated, her steps unseen by the faux opponents in her wake. Anessimbery was trained amongst the few scouts left on the island of Iana, the Tanain guard removing their positions to focus on internal threats rather than the borders. Father was too grief stricken to join them, afraid that if he continued to risk his physical being, he wouldn’t be enough to protect Ane. As much as she refused to let him do so, he gave up the line of duty and pursued the path of face wrappings. He eventually moved on to sewing head drapes, fitting them on Ane despite her large forehead.   
She had to beg her instructor to allow her to be trained like a Tet, the dismissive wave of his hand wasn’t enough to put out her fire. He finally agreed on one condition: She would have to beat him in a fight. The other students ooed and snickered at the thought of her being tossed into the dust like one of their training dolls. Little did they know that she was one to poke her fingers in the loopholes until she got her way. She didn’t take him down easily, he was beyond her level, of course she struggled. Her swipes were impressive but not enough, she was hit several times before she finally slid under his legs, slicing at his calves then kicking him in the back to knock him down. He faltered, struggling to get up until she smacked her two blades together to form one and held it to his neck, keeping him amongst the sand. Her classmates cheered, their mouths agape at the sight. This is what Papa used to call “Mage pride”: the satisfaction of performing a spell without setting anything on fire. She absorbed the applause from her classmates, helping her shocked instructor off the ground with a delighted grin on her face. He clamped her on the back and nodded, thus allowing her to train as a Tet fighter from that day forward.   
She adored the Tet, regardless of her Father being one of them, she adored the way they interacted, so much joy on their faces despite decades of struggle. They were full of laughter and mischief, just the way she used to be when both of her parents were with her. The sinking feeling of despair eventually reached her when she walked home alone, the warm sense of acceptance melting away when she reached the door.   
Ane didn’t…resent her father for what he did. She merely wished he hadn’t tried to lock everything that was Papa away. Including her.  
“Ane…” His voice was hushed when he opened the door. “My darling…?”  
“Yes?”  
“I want to…” She saw him swallow hard. “I want to make you happy again, my dear.”  
Her face was unmoving stone. “I am happy.”  
“I mean with me, again, you understand?” He sighed. “I do not mean to hurt you this way, I truly don’t. But I…suppose I can do better.”  
She pursed her lips and nodded. If she had opened her mouth, she knew something damaging would come out, something that would shut him down in an instant and make him walk away the way she did earlier that evening. She didn’t want that. She had to give him a chance, as much as he disturbed her with his irrational hatred of magic, he was still there. He did listen when she was hurt, he did heal her wounds. He loved her so fiercely, he simply struggled to show it the way Papa did.   
“I want to take you away, Ane. Away from here and…the old memories that may be harassing you at the moment.”  
“There are none, Te-Te.” She shook her head. “But, go on. Where do you want to take me?”  
She noticed his mournful smile. “Flaru. It is an island far from here but…but it is home. My old home.”  
“Flaru?” Her eyes lit up with concern. “That is across the Silent Ocean, how are we to get past the borders?”  
“We are allowed to leave temporarily, I have already written a letter to the new chief of the Tet. He resides there.”  
“New…chief?”  
Father sighed. “Din had suffered from an unknown plague of the mind. Before he had fully gone mad, he had allowed his son to take control of the tribe.”  
“It…was Pselus, wasn’t it?”  
“We don’t know. We don’t even know if he died. He’s just gone away, probably far from home to protect his sons.”   
“That is no good…”  
“Serkan is a wonderful leader. The Tet are as happy as I remember…” He pursed his lips, an exhale shaking out of his body. He cleared his throat, refreshing his head as he continued: “We are allowed in for a temporary time, the guard will only get antsy if we stay for longer than a few days.”  
Anessimbery stood, staring her father in the face.  
“What is it?”  
“I am just making sure you are my father and not some sort of hallucination.”  
Father rolled his eyes, patting his chest at her as a smile creeped up his face. She grinned and did the same, proud of her achievement. “I will go.”  
“You had no choice.” He turned and left the room, Anessimbery’s heart swelling as she listened to an easy chuckle escape from him.

Flaru was just north of Iana, a meager, leafy landmass with an overcrowding population of Tet tribes. According to Serkan’s letter, it was the only island the Tanain guard seemed to leave be, for the most part. There were only a sparse number of guard posts in the center, surrounding the outskirts of the city and leaving the villages unattended. The guards’ only jobs whilst on duty was to filter in trade, filter out travelers and confirm credentials for tourists. The excuse for border security being so very deplorable was because Flaru had already been confined to exclusion, even before the Isolation Treaties had been conceptualized. The staggering population of Tet had made them unappealing to their ancestral parents, the Arau and the Tana. Despite the formalities and surface smiles, the underlying resentment they had for the accidental conception of these iseilings had caused the other tribes to turn their backs and prevent any further migration to the island, hiding the Tet from their pure-blooded descendants for generations to come. However, the Tet that were abandoned on the island stood with their toes in the sand, embracing the newfound freedom from the strict ritual of the other tribes. They built a society their own, wondering brown eyes facing the future of the homeland for their children and their children’s children. They had built a city of metal in the center, defying the traditional stone and wood that the Tana and Arau tribes had wielded for thousands of years. They tossed away the scriptures of the gods, gazing towards what was tangible, grasping for the stars and the sun like grubby little toddlers. They built on what they had been given, that was the way of the Tet.   
Waves crashed against the boat, the pleasing scent of sea air filling Anessimbery’s nostrils as she pulled her shawl over her arms, readjusting her grip on her staff. She gazed at the horizon, cheek resting on the end of the scepter, her hair and face hidden from the just rising sun. Her eyes strained as they tried to make out the faces of dozens of Tet, gathered at the island’s edge, waving and stomping their feet in the sand, surrounding the few Tanain guards patrolling the docks. A smile formed on her face under the mask, her hands loosening on her staff so one could grip the edge of the boat, leaning forward to wave. She saw some jump up and whoop, clapping and kicking up sand in celebration of the newcomers. Father was right about one thing: these iseilings were truly happy to be alive.  
The boat bobbed, knocking against the dock with a loud boomp, the Tanain guard offering a hand to assist Anessimbery out of the boat. She shook her hand, hopping onto the dock with ease before taking Father’s hand and pulling him out of the boat. She saw his eyes widen with shock.  
“Whoa there, my dear! You’ve gotten quite big, haven’t you??? I didn’t realize my daughter was so rugged.”  
“Nah, nah…” She chuckled, her heavy laugh cascading around them. “It’s maybe because you’ve gotten weaker, huh? The whole day you sew, everyday!”  
Father gave her a worn smile. “My bones are old now, Ane, you know that?”  
She shook her head, the loose fabric of her head shawl waving to and fro. “No such thing as old bones.”   
He nodded, not bothering to push this conversation any further. The guard cleared her throat, holding out her hand for LoTe to give up their proper documentation. He patted his pockets, sure that it was kept in his left pants pocket. Or right. Or perhaps in his shawl. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking around the dock as if he dropped them. Anessimbery tapped the guard on the shoulder, coming face to face with her and placing the documents in her hand. The guard scanned her up and down, furrowing her eyebrows at the sight of Arau garments covering the young tourist from head to toe, including half of her face, an obviously magical weapon in her right hand. Her comrade tapped her other shoulder, muttering something in a grunt and she nodded. They turned away from Anessimbery, their eyes repositioning on the horizon, spears knocking on the dock four times until the other guards stepped in time, clearing the way for her and her father.  
As soon as he was sure the guards’ backs were towards them, he shed the scalding fabric threatening to stick to his flesh, exposing his arms, face and neck. He grumbled a series of curses under his breath, his gaze to the hot sun above.  
“Now that,” He pointed to the sun. “Scorching ball of gas, right there, that’s what I don’ like.” Granted, there were many things LoTe disliked about the island, but the sun was high on his list as it was high in the sky.  
“It’s nice.” Ane faced the sun, her eyes closing softly as the rays surrounded her cheeks in a delightful embrace. “She is not like this on Iana.”  
“Good riddance, I say…” He sighed, shoving the extra clothes into his pack then shouldering it.   
Beads chimed in the distance, calling Anessimbery in a pursuit of wonder. A tingling feeling lifted her heart, moving her feet swiftly towards the source of the sound, her eyes overwhelmed by the bright greens, pinks and purples the Tet had presented for the newcomers. Their feet stomped in rhythm of a distant drum, sand picking up and sticking to them like the dust of Iana, only they didn’t cover themselves with masks and head shawls. They were all free, bare skin, midriffs and toes exposed to the gritty texture, welcoming it to their bodies. They smiled, giggled, sang and cooed at her, sirens in a wave of elusive peace. Anessimbery felt the urge to sing to this distant song, the weight of guilt and resentment attempting to plague her and rip off her everlasting smile. She kept her eyes on the Tet dancing, some stomping in their traditional greeting and encouraging her to pick up the beads. The sense of her cynicism melted into the joy of unadulterated existence as the cool metal brushed the bridge of her nose. Her mind permitted itself to faint on the bed of blissful ignorance, the sky becoming brighter, the sun affectionate in its attempt to warm the children it permits to run free on this random rock amongst thousands of burning stars. She faced her soaring parent in the sky, the rays seeping into her flesh and wrapping each vein, eye and blood cell with the embrace of the sun. Nothing seemed to be, yet here was everything.  
LoTe pulled her back, snapping her out of her vision. Her head shook in miniscule intervals until she faced him, blinking to focus until her eyebrows lowered in frustration. His fingertips were cold on her forearm, the sun seeming to dim as they locked eyes. Her lip twitched. Here he went again, ruining her fun, ripping her from the culture he had ran away from.  
“What?” She hissed.  
“We have to find an inn to stay,” He glared at the dancing welcome party. “We will play with them laytah…”  
“What is the rush? We can stay for a moment, Te-Te.”  
“My dearest, I am very tiyard. Les’ just go, a’right?”  
“Ah…” She grumbled. “Alright…”  
She wanted to drag her feet the whole way there but decided to save it for when he was being truly ridiculous. Although, she could agree that he was obviously wound up about something, almost losing the documentation when he clearly stated that he wanted her to hold it to show her some sort of responsibility. She furrowed her eyebrows, her heart sinking at the thought that the statement probably wasn’t friendly banter. With a sigh, she shook the thought out of her head, filling it with reasonable possibilities so they could enjoy their time away, as a family. They hadn’t acted like a family in quite some time now, both shutting themselves off around each other out of fear of appearing weak. She exhaled slowly, ridding herself of negative thoughts as they dove head first into the heart of the city.  
They walked past all the celebrating Tet, nodding and properly greeting as quickly as they could, the sudden rush of the city reaching Anessimbery in an unpleasant light. The place was crowded, Tet shoved in every corner, squeezing past their fellow iseilings just to get where they needed to go. Anessimbery’s staff wasn’t helping, considering it was three inches taller than her and she was already taking nearly a foot off half the heads she was surrounded by. A few iseilings gave her a look and she decided to shrink the scepter down a bit until it fit in her palm. They sped past the thick bits of the crowd, making it to the street where a few carts being pulled along by long-haired bols, their riders scratching between their horns as they complained through a series of deep whines.  
I want to pet. Anessimbery smiled at one and it huffed through its nose. Adorable…  
She was sure that Father was going to rip her arm off. The pace in which he stepped was enough to match Anessimbery during a full-blown training session, her shrunken staff gripped extra tightly in her hand.  
“Nah, nah, Fathah, you don’t have to go so fast.”  
He simply ignored her, thoughts fixated on his primary location and the surrounding obstacles. She rolled her eyes, apologizing for ramming into various iseilings and catching glances. There was an uncertain order in the city where no one knew each other, no one was interacting for very long, yet they all knew the etiquette, not in the way her village did. They didn’t know out of tradition, they simply knew out of principle.   
And Father continued to follow that principle as if he had never left. He swerved between crowds and buildings, crossed the streets even when the little lights didn’t blink and managed to ignore everyone who had attempted to get his attention. Anessimbery turned at every sound, nearly tripped over every corner and apologized to every single iseilings she touched in a crowd. She bumped into a shorter figure in all black, their head and face covered so she could only see their chin. She nodded and apologized, the figure examining her up and down before Father pulled her back to him. She furrowed her eyebrows, shrugging off the slimy ball in her throat. She felt Father’s pace finally slow when the crowd had gotten too dense, bodies crammed on top of each other under a small sign that read FLARUNIAN MARKET in blue lettering.   
Anessimbery sidled next to her father, eyes scanning for any interesting trinkets she could take home and fidget with. Or maybe something for Father. Or maybe something she could fidget with right now. She was about to go off when her hood was yanked, Father sticking her right by his side and gripping her garments tight.  
“Now I know you, you’re a real clevah one, but you’re only clevah after you learn. After a couple days, I’ll let ya go off but for now, you’re six years old again, you hear?”  
Anessimbery smirked and rolled her eyes. “Okay, Fathah. I will be careful.”  
“’M not askin’ you to be careful, darling. I’m askin’ you to stay close, you hear?”  
“Yes, yes, I will stay close.”   
He patted her on the back, pushing her forward a bit. “There’s lots of tech around here that they don’ make in Iana. Or any where else I’ve heard of.”  
Her eyes danced around the flooded place. “You don’t use any magic he’a?”  
“None of that. Their magic is in their heads, not their hands.”  
“That means you can build tech too, yeah?”  
Father pursed his lips, swallowing thickly. He scratched the back of his neck, no itch in sight, inhaling slowly. “Ah…well I became a scout. I didn’t involve myself with all the…tech.” His eyes wandered to a shining blaster, sitting right on display. “I nevah bothered.”  
Anessimbery smiled. “I’m sure you can still try. Papa didn’t know magic until he started doing it.”  
LoTe nodded. “Yeah…I suppose that’s right.”  
They wandered about the market for a bit more, their eyes catching the latest gadgets and accessories the Flarunian Market had to offer. Her eye also caught the various iseilings around her, distinguishing their voices and gestures to create the society Father was trying to present to her. Women waved their hands and snickered at the salesmen, children ran free all around, unapologetic when they rammed into an unsuspecting stranger, massive shrieks emitting from their tiny bodies. Anessimbery’s eye also caught another black hood, taking her aback for a moment, but when she turned, they were gone again.   
Their feet were becoming sore from walking about the hard surface. It was much different than dust or sand, at least they would give under Anessimbery’s feet, but concrete was a different animal. She understood why Father wanted to find an inn so badly. Father took a seat on a bench near a food stall, Anessimbery leaning against the wall. She fiddled with her compact staff, twirling it in her fingers and spinning it against her hidden lips. She admired the work the Tet put into their tech, but she didn’t feel like she needed anything else but her staff. If she used enough Arcanio energy, she could pull it into two blades with golden hilts, doubling as a weapon and a magic concentrate. The smooth finish of the weapon gave her the confidence she needed to continue her practice, depleting any source of doubt when it channeled the right spell at the right time and preserving her energy for when she needed it the most. Not only that, but it was also Papa’s. It was his very first staff and now it was hers. It was supposed to be left with him when he died, but she had hoped he would prefer it to be in her hands rather than at the bottom of the Dead Sea.   
She wrapped her fingers around it, bringing it to her covered lips one last time before pocketing it. Her eyes caught the hooded figure again, approaching her rapidly from behind. She turned, taking her time with her steps as she crossed her arms to face them. From the skin on their chin and the markings on their neck, she could see that they were a Tet, skin a sweet brown and markings as dark as the night. They lowered their head, reaching a hand out towards her, her eyes taking a moment to register that they were holding a brightly colored piece of parchment. It was bright green like the beads that had been thrown at her, so she took it with ease, sure that this was just this Tet’s shy way of greeting the newcomers. She flipped it over and opened it:  
You will be facing a terrific fate.   
“Terr…ific?” She raised an eyebrow before being pushed down by the Tet, her staff flying from her pocket and into their hand. They sprinted off, a loud swoosh of their cloak filling her ears before a rageful ringing began.   
She caught herself just before she hit the ground and chased after them, shoving every single Tet in her wake. Her teeth were shut tight, her eyes burning from behind as her body cut through the wind. The ringing continued, a single tone that tightened her jaw and made her eyes want to bleed.   
Not today.  
Not tomorrow.  
Not any day.  
The thief ran up a bol, the poor animal groaning in distress. She slid under it, the concrete’s minimal friction catching her up to them in an instant. They snatched a cart of fruits, pulling it over to trip Anessimbery off her game but she simply leapt over it, tackling the one in question, sending shock throughout the market.   
They wrestled with the golden scepter, Anessimbery pulling them to her chest and shoving them into the ground, beating their head against the stone just to get them to let go. Their hood flew off, revealing a Tet about her age, loosely-coiled chestnut hair and light brown eyes burning into the golden staff, their teeth bared in as much desperation as Ane. Ane could feel the frenzied tears in her eyes, a hysteric series of distressed whines and shouts escaping from her mouth as she punched at the perpetrator’s ribs and scratched at their face, eyes being her first target. She dug her fingernails into the Tet’s fingers, prying them off and slamming her scepter onto their diaphragm, popping it back into its original shape and pinning down its kidnapper.  
Their eyes widened, locking with Ane’s. They stared deep into her eyes, digging into the very source of her fury, causing Anessimbery to grip her staff even tighter and press it deeper into their chest. They inhaled scarcely, a naughty smile creeping up their face, their eyebrows lowering in mischievous satisfaction. Ane’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the thief’s expression throwing her off until she was smacked in the face with her own staff, the thief taking their tiny window without hesitance. The ringing clang of her teeth against the metal knocked her over, blood spilling from her lip and staining her face mask as the thief ran off, cheering in victory.  
“I found the mage! I found the mage!”


End file.
